Dear Son,

Another letter I write because I am remembering how important it is for you to accept your creativity and own it. Each time I listen to you I learn how you use words …  what you think is important to say and what you think is not. I hope you’ll always know the importance of words … they have consequences and good words manifest good things. Manifest good things … I know that you get it. I’m happy you do.
I wonder what your reality looks like, what it feels like, what worlds it possesses. As you get older, funny using that word ‘older’… as you get older I see all sorts of possibilities and I just know that you can create any kind of world you want for yourself, walk any path you choose.  Don’t forget your personal stories … The story given you at birth and the dreams of babyhood, the story that let you to speak to things unseen, the story of how your hands create incredible detail, the story of natural geometry, the story of imagined vivid, and colorful realities and the understanding of subtle irony in everyday being.
Remember your stories, your dreams, live your dreams … learn from your dream stories, they have meaning.
When I watch you, not as momma but as just another it’s surreal and creates a fuzzy feeling that I want to keep holding and it’s hard to keep holding, it’s fleeting. Sometimes when I can see just right,  I can pick out individual traits uniquely yours, the traits that will make you an incredible man. I see it and I dream it and it’s all good.

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