It Might Just Work

Dear Jack,

For the last year or so, your dad and I have been saying that you and your sister will be sharing a room, at least for a while.

Except when we say it, we say it like this: "The kids are going to share a room." [ha ha ha]

That last little bit of laughter is all in our heads, but we both readily admit to it. See, we didn't really care one way or another and knew that you wouldn't be in any room but ours for the first few months anyway, so we just didn't bother making any real decision. Your sister's room already had a crib and a twin bed, so we moved her to the twin bed and called it your room, too.

The trick, of course, would be to get the two of you to sleep in the same room at the same time. That's where the laughter came in. It seemed like it would be such a trick to get two little people to sleep without the one waking the other. How could that not be a joke?

Yet, today, for the very first time, we pulled it off. You fell asleep in your crib in your room while your sister was chattering away at her stuffed animals and then she fell asleep and there you both were. Asleep in your room. At the same time.

For the very first time, the laughter melted away and your dad and I thought this might just work.

The kids are going to share a room.

Love,
Mom

Not so Fast

Dear Jack,

Your physicality amazes me. A month ago, you didn't even know how to sit yourself up without help and now you are crawling everywhere, sit up, lay down, and even pull up to a standing position at will.

I have also noticed that once you learn a new skill, it seems like you can't be bothered with the old ones any more. Now that you can stand, for example, no more sitting for you. You pull up on your toys and stand there, with one hand on the toy for balance and play for twenty minutes or so until your core muscles and legs just won't stand anymore.

It's cute and admirable, but I'm afraid it means walking will be just around the corner.

Slow down, sweet boy.

I'm still getting used to not finding you right where I left you.

Love,
Mom



P.S. Normally I hate the whole "and then we were better parents with our second child" nonsense, but I do think you should thank your sister for demonstrating beyond a shadow of a doubt for us that once a baby can pull up, crib mattresses should be lowered. No tumbling over the rail for you. Until you can climb better, anyway.

Merry Christmas

Dear Jack,

Your first Christmas was pretty awesome, I thought. You got some great gifts, of course, but you also spent a lot of time with your family... grandmas, aunts, uncles, cousins, and of course your dad and sister and me. You also learned a new trick: pulling yourself to a standing position, which you thought was pretty neat. And you are now officially fully mobile. You can crawl from one end of a room to the other with no problem. Which means you got to play with all of your new Christmas toys, and chew on the wrapping paper we left way over there, and started a scuffle with your sister when you made a play for one of her toys.

As for me, my favorite part was snuggling up next to you all night and waking up every so often to watch you sleep. Somehow I doubt that will ever get old.

So, Merry Christmas, son.

Love,
Mom

Not Your Parents

Dear Jack,

These are not your parents. I know that over the course of the last month, you have spent a lot of time around them... something like twelve days and ten nights, to be precise. I know you have slept cuddled up between them and that they spoil you like crazy. I know they solved both your sinus infection and your diaper rash and that they don't let you fuss for more than a second without trying to fix things for you. But they aren't your parents.

This is also not your parent. I know she got up with you at four in the morning many many mornings this month. I know she lets you grab her hair just because you like to. I know she taught you how to eat solid food. I know she rode a carousel with you, got a motion sickness headache and everything just to share the experience with you. But she is not your parent.

Once again, not your parent. Yes, he held you while wearing his favorite t-shirt and you spat up all over it, and then he held you again, after it was clean, and you spat up all over it again and he didn't hold it against you. He does run out to the car to get anything you need and loves to make you laugh. But he is not your parent.

I am telling you all of this because lately you have seemed just a little bit confused. When your Uncle James died, your dad and I had to focus on getting through that crisis, on helping out your grandparents and your Aunt Rachel and cousin Will. We had to do a lot of things that were hard and we weren't always at our best. So to be the best parents we could be for you during that time, we had to decide to let you stay with Gonzalez's. There were four of them and they were able to spend all of their time and attention caring for you. It was a much, much, much better experience for you than being with your own stressed out parents would have been.

So that's why when your Aunt Dani brought you up to the funeral home to see me and I reach for you and you turned back to her, I knew I had chosen well. You see, for this last month, you felt that cared for and that loved.

Now, though, things are getting back to normal and you have your very own parents back.

But we'll still be seeing a lot of your Aunt Dani, Uncle Mark, Lillia, and Myles. And honestly, I think they are just as confused as you are because they still act like you might be their little boy.

And I love that about them. And I know you do, too.

Love,
Mom

The Best Medicine

Dear Jack,

I want you to know how much you have done for your grandma in the last few weeks. Even though you are a very little baby still, you were such a big help.

You see, when people lose a life that is dear to them, they like to have reminders of the preciousness of life, of the goodness of God's grace, and the promise of a future.

They also need a little joy.


Babies tend to provide all of that in one very adorable package.

I am so glad you were here to be that baby for your grandmother. It was nice to know that even in her grief, you could bring a smile to her face.

Babies really are, as she says, the best medicine.

Love,
Mom

Lost and Found

Dear Jack,

The recent loss of your Uncle James has your sister a little confused. You see, we told her that Uncle James had died and that a lot of people were sad. We explained a lot of things as best we could, but then we fell into saying that we had "lost" Uncle James. Your sister seemed to understand, but then when we picked Uncle Jonathan up from the airport, your sister very excitedly exclaimed, "I found him, I found Uncle James!"

They do look alike, your two uncles. But we had to explain to her that this was Uncle Jonathan, not Uncle James. Persisting, your sister maintained that we had "lost Uncle James" but we had "found Uncle Jonathan." Not wanting to argue the point, I let her continue to repeat the phrases.

By the end of the week, though, I began to see the wisdom in her thinking. We have lost Uncle James and although I firmly believe we will see him again in Eternity, it just isn't going to be the same and we miss him terribly. At the same time, it feels as though we have connected anew with your Uncle Jonathan. It has been almost three years since we last saw him and we have all changed in that time and spending a week with him in this time of grief helped all of us to reconnect and affirm those lasting family ties. We have lost Uncle James, but at least we found Uncle Jonathan.

It doesn't keep us from missing your Uncle James, but it makes me feel better to know you will have an uncle around who will love you and help teach you things and tell us stories about when your dad was a little boy.

Love,
Mom

Uncle James

Dear Jack,

Someday, when you are older, you will hear your dad and me (and a lot of other people) talk about your Uncle James.

You will hear stories about the time that Uncle James shot Uncle Jonathan with a bamboo skewer loaded in a BB gun.

Or the time that Uncle James threw a ball of solid ice at your dad and almost took out his eye.

You will hear stories about how your grandma had to bail Uncle James out of jail the night before your parents' wedding because of all those unpaid speeding tickets he liked to collect.

You will hear stories about Uncle James' tattoos and the one that he got and then developed MRSA (a pretty serious antibiotic resistant staph infection).

Or the story of the other tattoo your Uncle James got and then developed a second round of MRSA.

You will hear the story of the time your Uncle James tried to jump a truck while riding a trick bike being pulled by a piece of rope attached to another truck.

That story will be followed quickly by the story of the time Uncle James broke the tips off the two bones in his leg and then walked around for a couple of days thinking it was maybe a sprain.

The story of the time your Uncle James came over to go skeet shooting with your dad, only he didn't have a rifle case, so he walked up the stairs to our apartment wearing a "wife beater" shirt that showed off all of those famous tats with a rifle slung over his shoulder and the neighbors almost called the cops.

The story about the worst New Year's Eve ever where your dad and I stayed up all night cleaning up after the party your Uncle James threw at Grandma's house so that maybe (just maybe) your Uncle James would still have a place to live in the new year.

See, there are a lot of really funny Uncle James stories out there. We plan on telling them a lot. We hope you think that they are funny stories. But we also really hope you don't plan on reenacting any of them (especially the trick bike stunt -- even Uncle James admitted that was a mistake).

So I also want you to know that there are a whole lot of other Uncle James stories.

The story about how he learned to weld and made a barbecue pit for your dad and even named it "The Pit of Despair" to reference The Princess Bride, which was one of his very favorite movies.

The story about the Thanksgiving that he came up here and made the very best turkey ever even though he was by far the youngest cook in the house.

The story about how whenever he came up to see us, he would sharpen all of our cooking knives because it was a subtle and quiet way he could be helpful.

The story about how he joined the Army because he wasn't happy with where his life was going and he knew he wanted to do better.

Of how excited he was to be a part of such a brotherhood, how much he loved doing things like jumping out of perfectly good planes, and how proud he was to be a soldier.

The story about when he first met your Aunt Rachel, he was too nervous to talk to her, so he played with your cousin Will instead.

The story about how when he brought Aunt Rachel and Will to see us, he was so loving and attentive to both of them, rough housing with Will, hugging on Aunt Rachel.

The story about how when he left for Afghanistan, he made sure he had moved Aunt Rachel and Will to a new house, bought a deep freeze and filled it with food because he wanted to make sure they were cared for.

The story about how he would climb buildings in Afghanistan to get cell phone reception so he could call Aunt Rachel and check on her, Will, and the baby.

Those stories might not be the funny ones, but I hope you listen to them as well, because they speak so much to your Uncle James' character, and it is his character that I do so hope you will emulate.

How he never stayed mad at your dad or Uncle Jon (or anybody else), no matter what they did.

How everyone who spent any amount of time at all around him, feel in love with him.

How patient he was with little kids -- especially little kids he considered family.

How full of life and happy he was.



I'm telling you all of this because a week ago, on November 22, 2009, we found out that Uncle James was killed in Afghanistan and the thing that is breaking everyone's hearts right now is that you and your sister, and Uncle James' son Will and his little Peanut on the way, and all the other kids that get to share in this Nolen family, won't get to make new Uncle James stories.


So I want you to know, your Uncle James story is this: when Uncle James came down to Texas from North Carolina to let the family meet Aunt Rachel and Will, he made a point to come the extra eight hours out of his way to see you, to be there when you were baptized, and to welcome you to the family. Because family was everything to Uncle James.

All the other Uncle James stories, you will share with your sister and cousins, but that one is yours.

Cherish it, and as you get older, if you do find yourself trying out some really off-the-wall stunts and tricks, know you come by it honestly. And Uncle James would be proud.

Love,
Mom