The story will start with details too heavy for your tiny mind to hold. From the dark pit where I pleaded for your life and mine. Just moments before you split away from my body and first took breath.
Up from the water, into the new morning. Surrounded by blood, and pain, and love. And an ache that would not go away.
The story will roll through your first year like thunder. It will tell of how we shrunk like two cold stars in a lost galaxy. How we screeched into deep empty space where no-one heard us. And how we drifted into a slipstream, a needle thin orbit that kept us alive.
It will also tell of the love that entwined our souls in golden threads. How I heard the murmur of each heartbeat. How I whispered silky words into your warm neck. How you were safe in the balm of my skin.
One day you will know this was not my design, that I carried a scar from the start. One day I will tell you about the disease that almost swallowed me. How it left me with a shattered body and a brittle mind. I hope you will not see a wounded soldier, but a warrior who tried to be strong for too long.
The story will turn just as we spun into your second year. It will tell of blossoming and happiness. How you found your firm footing and your brave voice. And though I remained a crooked shadow, you wrapped me in the grace of your small soft hands.
Now you are two. You are so strong, my little lion. You are gentle, my little lamb. You are soaring, my little eagle. Insurrection gravity is wheeling at your wings.
Another year trails off into history. Look how far we’ve come. Can you see that wisp of light? It’s the hope of your bold future.
I don’t know how the story will end. But one day, my son, we will walk in the lightness of a thousand summery days. I will rise with my former strength and glide by your side. For now, this is your time. Step into the sunlight.
Roar your mighty roar.