Dear Son,

Since your seventh birthday is coming up I thought it might be prudent for me to write down some memories about the “State of Scottie” at the age of six. The prudence is in anticipation of my failing memory, and just in case you ever get curious in your adult years.

Your favorite drink is root beer. You love to play ninja and do karate on me. You had a dream that you were Scooby Doo and I was Shaggy, and another that we were on Captain Crunch's ship. You can hold entire conversations while standing on your head or doing flips or jumping over the back of the couch and crawling out from under it, and when I ask you what you are doing you look at me as if I'm crazy. You are as rowdy as a litter of puppies and just as loveable.

You started a new first grade class this week. I went to meet your teacher yesterday morning and ended up being "volunteered" to help out with P.E. class. Suprisingly, tending to forty rambunctious children at once was easier than I thought. I guess if I can handle wrangling you on a daily basis, "normal" kids are a breeze.

At first I had been hesitant to offer my help, but you did something that I will never ever forget. I don't remember much from my childhood, but one thing I do recall is being embarrassed of my parents. I suppose most children are that way. But several times while you were playing you stopped to point me out to a comrade and say "That's my dad." Thank you for that Scottie. Thank you.

You still haven't got your two front teeth in yet since they were pulled by the dentist almost four years ago. That's okay with you though. You still enjoy your silver capped "vampire fangs". You’ve had quite a run of it with your life so far. You've been hospitalized three times:, at four months for a lung infection, at ten months for an infected lymph node, and four years for meningitis. You probably remember that last one. You've had two spinal taps, and you've been under general anesthetic three times. When you had to get stitches in your upper lip for a dog bite last December it took six adults and a straight jacket just to get you “drugged.” Later that day I carried you out to the car with your head on my shoulder.

Your Spiderman penny bank is nearly full from all the profiteering you have been doing. Taking out the trash is big business when you charge me two dollars each time, and you have been threatening to go up to three! You challenged me to a drinking contest recently, to see who could drink a whole can of root beer the fastest. I let you win. You also won the burping contest that followed, but you won that out of sheer talent. Four bucks earned, fair and square. You chipped a little hole in Spiderman's head so you can peek in every few days and see how your "nest egg" is coming along.

Scottie, I don't know that you'll ever understand just what you mean to me, or what you have unknowingly done for me, but I hope someday you will. The last five years of my life have been my darkest ever. I've been witness to the evil that people can do, and will do, without deliberation or cause.

Many men would have given up and moved away long ago, but I vowed that I was not going to lose my little boy, especially not after losing everything else in my life. If I end up homeless and living on the streets it's okay with me as long as I am close to you. Some of the things I’ve learned in the last few years? I learned that people, strangers and loved ones alike, will not hesitate to bring hardship and loss to your life out of sheer malice. I also learned that from the darkest depths come the brightest lights. You have been my guiding light.

We spend countless hours building Lego castles and having toy dragons attack them. We play kick ball outside our one room apartment even though the balls keep falling victim to the thorny rose bushes. I'll keep buying them for you as long as you ask for them. It's money well spent. Other adults look at me funny when they see us having a mock shootout with toy pistols, but I don't care. I cherish every moment we have together because I know soon you'll be too old to stay home playing little kid games with Dad.

I wish I could stop time and keep you just the way you are forever.

We put your lost teeth under your pillow, and we put milk and cookies out for Santa. You tell me that I should pray sometimes.

You asked me if ninjas can really fly.

Yes, Scottie. We can fly.