At the Twilight’s Last Green Beans

Wednesday, November 11

It’s Veterans’ Day.  A day dedicated to the recognition of service.  And I choose to spend it with the person I am most grateful to serve—my son.

My service to him (and to my own inner-child) is my life’s only true work.  I believe it’s the entire point—of everything.

I know that there are parents who may interpret “service to my son” as a perpetual state of giving in, being pushed over, or lack of resolve to stand my ground.

I promise, it is none of that.

There are bedtimes and consequences, routines and expectations.  But above and beyond all else, there is love.  Just love.  Unconditional, never-ending, forever-forgiving love.

I want my little boy to grow into a young man.  A confident gentleman. An admired old sage, who will know upon instinct that his Mom and Dad have always (will always) believe in him.  I want him to know on a cellular, molecular level, that regardless of any and every circumstance, he will never (could never) be alone.

And while I won’t always be able to grant all of his wishes, when he tells me on this morning that he’s not feeling one-hundred percent (his words), and that instead of playing with his friends at daycare, he wants to stay home with me, I happily (and lovingly) make it so.

There’s nothing particularly grand about our day.

An easy trip to Market Basket.  A quick stop at the pharmacy.  A movie on Netflix.

A little indoor hockey.  A little more cleaning accompanied by the Uptown Funk station on Pandora.  Constructing some wooden railways in the living room.

A glorious nap.  Even a little yoga. (Seeing him do Namaste breaks my heart in all the right ways every single time.)

No, the day is not grand.  And neither are the gestures.

But my service is meaningful and I am honored to do it.

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(I promise if you watch the video below, it’ll be the cutest and most patriotic thing you’ll watch all day.  A throw back courtesy of Briggs circa 2013 :))

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