Saturday was Noah’s birthday. All the sudden he’s eight years old. What the. How the. Who the. When the. Where the heck did the time go?!
I’m trying to teach Noah about rhyming and poetry, so this year I wrote him this poem for his birthday.
Dear Noah, My Son, Now That You’re Eight
Dear Noah, my son, now that you’re eight,
And handsome, and amazing, and full of great traits,
I just want to tell you a few little things
About that which your awesomeness constantly brings.
You have this great smile that stretches clear to the moon,
And each time that you smile it, away goes all gloom.
Your laugh is contagious and fills up the whole block.
Each time that you laugh it, the world, it just rocks.
Your eyes are so big, and so dark, and so warm.
To look into them forever, I’d give up an arm.
Your kindness is bigger than any I’ve known.
With loved ones and cousins, it always has shown.
Your heart is so big it could beat out of your chest.
The people who know you, know it’s one of the best.
Noah, you’re so easy-going and so quick to forgive.
You look at life in a way that so many should live.
You know how to come up with the most perfect joke.
You make me laugh so dang much, I fear I may croak.
You accept others even when they’re different than you.
And you make people feel loved, it’s just something you do.
You get so excited about the things that are small.
That’s something that puts you ahead of them all.
When you are not here, and off far away,
My days are more lonely, and a little more gray.
I miss you like crazy the moment you’re gone,
And count down the minutes until you’re back in my arms.
The house gets so quiet without you running around,
and wrestling me, and pinning me hard to the ground.
When you are gone, I look at our longboards.
At our bikes, and our scooters, and then out at the road.
And I think of us out there having all of our fun,
And having our races until our legs are just done.
And then you come back and the world lights up again.
And you leap into my arms, and hug me, and then…
You tell me you love me, and you mean it, you do.
And I kiss you and tell you the same goes for you.
And now that you’re eight, and getting so big
I’m more thankful than ever for this parenting gig.
We’ll take care of each other and keep being pals.
We’ll talk about life, and of friends, and of gals.
And we’ll keep doing everything that we love to do.
Camping, and hiking, and yes, Monopoly, too.
No matter what happens, and what life brings around.
I hope you can always count on one sound.
It’s the sound that will always pass through my lips,
It’s the words “Hey, I love you,” that you never should miss.
Yes, happy, or excited, or frustrated, or sad.
Struggling, or winning, or angry, or glad.
This Dad, he does love you, and when everything’s done,
I’m so proud of the boy that you now have become.
Happy birthday, dear Noah. You’re finally eight.
And fantastic, and amazing, and so totally great.
The last few years especially have flown by. And now that he’s eight, the next stop is nine. And then ten, and eleven, and oh my gosh. Where does it stop?!
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing