Falling Down (in Memorium)

Sam, we didn't tell you about Dennis. You saw the look of shock on my face when I took the phone call that night. You heard me cry in Daddy's arms. But you accepted our explanation that our good friend was very sick. For a few days, you asked after him... then you stopped. It didn't seem right, somehow, not to tell you we'd lost someone special to us, someone who saw how special you were. But it was worse to flounder for an explanation, to admit that sometimes people don't wake up—even people younger than your parents. We wanted to protect you from that unfair fact, keep you from fretting over it, for just a little longer. Dennis would understand. Below is a note he wrote on his own blog the day Daddy went to tell him you were on the way. And the picture here is from the day Dennis met you, when—at 10 days old—you were introduced to The Morley. He's just out of the frame. I like to think that's still true.

Falling Down
September 16th, 2002 · 5 Comments

Today I received news from a friend that genuinely surprised me. News, that in another situation, with another group of people, may have been frowned upon. Instead, it made me feel like sometimes things work out right after all. I've got a sense of excitement about things to come.

For where-e'er the sun does shine,
And where-e'er the rain does fall,
Babe can never hunger there,
Nor poverty the mind appall.
— William Blake, Songs of Experience (1794)

Tags: · Nostalgia, Personal
5 comments for this entry ↓

1 Angelika // Sep 17, 2002 at 12:48 pm
"I've got a sense of excitement about things to come"
Nicely said Dennis! You and me both. :)

2 dennis // Sep 18, 2002 at 9:02 am
Can we say "spoiled rotten"?

3 ang // Sep 23, 2002 at 11:25 am
:) Very touching, Dennis: thanks. I transcribed the Blake quotation into my journal. I love Blake....not as a first name though ;)
And I'm working on the premise that people can be "spoiled good"? :) Heck, even "great."

4 dennis // Sep 23, 2002 at 6:44 pm
I was talking about buying Leafs tickets for myself this season. What the hell did you think I meant? ;-)

5 ang // Sep 26, 2002 at 1:46 pm
Why, I was talking about you stopping by the little souvenir kiosk on the way out... There could be trouble with this whole Leafs thing, but I think a mother knows best...

That's a Lot of Love, Hey??

Two months! Two months have slipped with nary a single post to capture Sam's transition to a five year old. I'm determined to catch up on what's been going on, but for the moment (I have a massive Sunday To Do list), I simply must get this down.

After finishing up Robin Hood a few nights ago, Sam and I were having our goodnight snuggles and he declared—in his most serious tone—"I love you so much, I love you more than a horrible shock pains. And I love you so much that it feels like my heart will explode and my rib cage will explode and pieces of my ribs will shoot up into outer space. That's a lot of love, hey? Is that how much you love me?"

Yes, Sam. Exactly that much.

This morning, he added: "I love you more than all my pirates, my Power Rangers, my Ben 10 guys, my Pokemon, and my Galactic Enforcers. I love you more than all the movies I've ever seen and all of the movies I will ever make. That's a lot of love, hey? Do you love me that much?"

Yes, Sam. More than anything in the universe.

According to some child development theorists I've read, the affectional bond between mother and child becomes the template for all relationships the child will go on to form throughout his life. As Tracey remarked yesterday afternoon, it seems likely that Sam is going to be one of those boys who lays his heart on the line for girls, who writes intense poetry for them, and who gets crushed more than once by opening himself up with the question "That's a lot of love, hey? Do you love me that much?"

But who wouldn't love him that much? He's wonderful (says his mother...).