Posts tagged as ‘Kai’
A letter to my son Kai, as part of a culmination project for the Mountain School.
There is never really enough time to say everything, only moments and fragments in the soft haze of memory that allow us to make sense of it all. I write this letter at a time in my life where you are already a little boy readying for school, perhaps not even realizing the wide world around you. But I imagine myself leaving this letter for you in a drawer on the bureau, perhaps with other loved items, only later to be forgotten, untouched for years until one day, you happen upon it in a fit of serendipity. For you to read this as the person you will become, I can only picture bemusement on your face, perhaps embarrassment at the wistful dispatches of your father. But for now, in this present moment, I can only write you words - words of hope and joy, words from a younger father whose thoughts may seem foolish and naive compared to the one I may become, but words whose resonance will hopefully echo beyond what I put down on paper. What I cannot convey in this letter is to show you just how deep and wide the human heart can be, how open it is to all things, how resilient it can be in the face of loss and how unending it is in its capacity to love. These are words, perhaps you won't understand now as a little boy, but you feel them even now: when I hold your hand and we walk along the street as sunlight pours over our faces, the scent of jasmine on our noses like a secret finally unkept after a long winter. You feel it when I get you ready for bed, and I hug you towards me, serene after your nightly bath, and we giggle about everything that has happened during the day. And when I leave for work every morning and you walk me out of the house in your pajamas to wish me goodbye and to say I love you, it is there like a golden strand, from my heart through the tips of my fingers and towards you heart, to even beyond where human eyes can see. For you to smile at these memories as you read these words as the person you will become years from now, is to say that perhaps I've done the right thing after all. That you can see the world as it is, imperfect and troubled, but always wondrous and always beautiful for those who can see beyond the darkness. From the father I am now to the son who is and who will be, I want for you the world as it is always is, and to pass that which connects both of us as a gift towards the future where your heart is always wide open to the possibilities of love. Dad
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§ Essays, Kai, Life 
!http://www.sotto.org/images/IMG_20962.jpg(Kai enjoying the Stanford scene)! Kai enjoys running around Stanford a couple of warm weekends ago. # § Kai, Photos
We had been teaching Kai baby sign language when we finally made first contact about a month ago when he made the sign for "more". He now knows the following: more, milk, eat, water, ball, finished and fish. How he learned the fish sign is a long story. We've watched a couple of the recommended signing DVDs, but the ASL Browser is now at the top of our list for learning new words. # § Kai, Language, Life
My free time with Kai has been incredibly rewarding these past few months. From the moment he began to walk (@12 months), the door in his mind and personality has swung wide into the open expanse of the world around him. As I described to a dear friend, Kai now walks with a purpose into a world where there are not enough hours in the day to experience it all. As an infant, short glimpses of his personality would manifest itself: a sweet smile, an infectious laugh, a gentle sigh. But it has been during this period after he began to walk and the present (@14 months), that I have seen his heretofore nascent individuality ebulliently come to the surface. Being a new dad and rediscovering the world through his eyes has been more joyous and life affirming than I have ever thought possible. There is nothing more amazing than to see him experience with wonder what we adults would consider prosaic and mundane: a light turning on; watching water go down the drain; finding a single strand of hair in the carpet. It is an immense, enriching and huge experience. I think back on those strained early months of transition from being a dude to a dad: the long hours, 3AM feedings and sleepless nights. Then I recall the very first time he ambled towards me with his favorite book, handed it to me and then sat in my lap waiting for me to read it to him and turn the page. It was such a pure moment, a moment of paternal intimacy that I had imagined in my head again and again, even before he was born. But the intellectualized version didn't even touch the real. It was a moment not unlike the first time I held him in my arms after he was born and gazed into his face. Surreality washed over me and I suddenly felt as though I were outside of myself, looking into my new life through the lense of a telescope. But as I stood there, cradling this tiny human being in my arms, someone who carried with him all of my hopes and dreams and failings, I rushed back haphazardly over my own memories of childhood and adult life: a listless life as a child with a Dad in the Navy; growing up a flatlander in Chicago; being an English major in College, then working at the studio; the first time I met Jennifer, the day we got married and then our trip to the hospital just hours earlier before he was born. And then there it was. Such an imperceptible shift, but something that changes you forever: the very definition of yourself as an individual wrapped up into that singular moment of connection with your first born child. In a single instance, all of the disconnects you had ever perceived in your life are suddenly connected, all of the needs that you felt had gone wanting suddenly showed themselves to be nothing more than phantoms, illusions and shadows. A pure human moment, a moment of familial epiphany. What it feels like to be a dad. Like the first time he sat down to read with me, or the first time I get to hear him say "I love you Dad". My wish is to be here for him when it happens, and that I'll recognize those moments when they come. # § Kai, Life, Love
There are no words to express how happy you make me. There is no gift worth more than what you give to me each day. From father to son, I give you love from the beginning of the world to the tips of my fingers. Happy 1st Birthday Kai.
# § Kai, Life, Love, PhotosThings I've learned about babies so far:
When something is placed at or near the roof of their mouths, they have a suck reflex. When you touch the middle of their palms, they have a grasp reflex. When there is a sudden noise in the room, they have a startle reflex. Unbeknown to most, when you wear long sleeve clothes and are readying for work, they sense this and if their diaper is off, they have a projectile urination reflex. You can get Carpal Tunnel by holding a baby in the wrong way for too long. Finally, I've posited that there is some sort of distortion in the space-time continuum within their bodies that allows them to hold inordinate amounts of nebulous gas that cannot possibly physically exist within the small confines of their Lilliputian digestive tract. Luckily, some of the laws of physics still apply (such as Boyles' Law) and the sudden evacuation of fumes are pre-determined by Jim Carrey-like distortions of the face, neck and head.There is still much to divine from babies of course, but don't worry, I'll keep everyone up to date. # § Kai, Life