Dear Solo, (a letter to my thirteen-year-old son)

Dear Solo,

My love, in all the motion and the sets of goodbyes and all of it, you turned thirteen! For four days, we had four teens living under one roof. Peak teenager, as Leafy called it. Perhaps you are peak teenager with all your joy and wildness. We have named you well. Your name means Son of Peace and your middle name means Joy Has Entered the House.

You are a boy of joy and peace, I see them both flowing through you. And I see joy and peace’s companions, sorrow and wrestling, those too. I see you wrestle and I see you find peace again. These are worthy things to pursue, and so much richness exists in the search.

I see your heart shining very, very bright. You are well known in our family for your love for beauty and music, your quickness in bringing laughter to all of us.

To be a teen in a pandemic is not an easy thing. I see how your world has become narrower and smaller, and I see how you are answering the challenge by making it bigger within. More art! More music! More life and quirk and more barking and howling (literally) at the moon. Late nights lying and looking at the stars.

(you had to wear your presents from your little brother all at the same time)

You point beautiful things out to me all the time.

You have a sea of quiet beneath your surface, a place where you are always thinking and contemplating.

You radiate freedom.

Our hearts are yours, son, mine and your father’s. We love you so, so much. You have always had us, from the first day you arrived, in the jungle in Goa.

Happy thirteenth birthday,

it has all gone so quickly and I pray that this year is luminous for you.

**

you came in with a gust of rain

a storm in the garden

a new country that was fuller and better

than expected

you were wilder and more radiant than expected

a little creature in my arms

or your father’s hands

we walked you down the beach, back and forth

in the coconut grove

under the stars

miriam and johanna loved you so

maria and jaya and tripta

becca and matty

renee and cate

rosario and cypriano

all these aunties and uncles,

do you know how loved? how many dances?

with you with you

you our wonder

you were brand new in the

rain in the indian heat

running into life

laughing and crying and you

are everywhere all at once, you are

ours and the worlds and you have never been

anything we could pin down

you grew up in the sea

with the beach dogs

you slipped your hands into the hands

of strangers you ran down nepali streets

we searched for you and found you in shops

hiding in boats or

under the covers

you charmed us all

you have danced on mountains and on the sand

in restaurants, on streets, on trains

now your pencil dances

under stars

beside the rice paddies

you and your pencil and your trumpet

tall and noble

you are our own

our own forever and you bring light

and color everywhere everywhere

you go

Love,

Mama

***

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