Today was your last day as a four year old.
When you woke and silently wandered down the stairs,
I asked if you wanted to go out with me and take photos of the sunrise.
And even though the air was cold
You smiled and said;
“I was going to just ask you that same thing, Dad”.
We drove to the longest jetty
And you ran the whole way to the end,
By yourself and with no fear.
You wanted to keep warm but you really just wanted to run
To get to the end and to be warm.
I took photos of you and Zee and Mum.
You asked to look through the viewfinder
Like you always do.
You want to see what I see and what you can see;
It’s one of the things I love most about you.
We spend the day together;
Eating (two pieces of toast with baked beans and a bowl of Nutri Grain)
You watch a movie (Cars 2).
I take you swimming and you move your body in the water
Four strokes without breathing,
Your lungs bursting inside of you.
Then you got upset because you didn’t have your special swimming book.
I stayed calm and then calmed you down
The last thing I spoke to you was “Do you want me to carry you?”
I picked you up,
Holding your long body against mine,
Your legs reaching past my knees.
We have dinner
Watch a movie
You bake your cake (with Mum)
And then I get you ready for bed;
We count to eighty,
Smiling with each number.
You are big now, Roo. But…
You will always be my boy.
Read Roo’s birth story here.