A Letter to Robert William

This is my fourth letter to loved ones.

Dear Rob,

I have no memories of you as a baby. I don't know why. As a toddler I remember you grasping the bar of your crib and vaulting over it. You needed to be free from a very young age. Teaching you to stay in bed, close your eyes, and go to sleep required your mother to sit outside your door listening for you to move. She tried to anticipate your escape by opening the door and telling you to sleep. You required supervision.

School was easy for you. You had a winning personality and were most often the star of any show. You grew up around soccer and became a star on your team as well.

When your mother died everything changed for us. I remember your grandmother scolding you for running the dishwasher at the wrong time of day. As I remember it, you were the first grandchild to verbally challenge her. You had the need to break her attempts to rule us. We all missed your mother, but you needed to be responsible for yourself.

Not long after, you had the opportunity to play soccer with a team from Chicago when they took a trip to Europe. I could not go, so you traveled alone with the team not knowing any of the players well. You didn't call me once. You were free to be responsible for yourself. You were happy on your own. Since then you made your own decisions.

Many of the decisions you made were different than what I would have done. Decisions can be either good or bad, but which ever occurs, you seem to learn best on your own.

You are older now and the decisions of the past have left a few permanent marks on your life. Watching scar tissues form as yo slowly heal is difficult for me to do. I have allowed you to be free because you hav always needed it.

Be happy! Be free! Don't try to run through any sliding glass doors.

With love, your dad,
John

Here is today's beauty.