“What do you want to do with your body on Earth?”

Another Fine Homemade Parachute Page, Crafted With Love

Funny you should ask. Six years ago today, we were starting to ask the very same thing of you: it was your very first day, outside, breathing air, seeing the world. It’s overwhelming to think of it now, almost as much as it was at the time. Your very first day, with your whole life in front of you.

Noah

And there you were, just a few hours old, already a great sleeper. One of your best attributes, really.

You were born in the Dogwood wing of the BC Women’s Hospital, which I consistently misread at the time as Deadwood, and wouldn’t you know it, one of your favourite early toys looked not a little like Al Swearengen:

Noah

You did indeed like to do a lot with your body in that first year: yelling was very popular, then rolling, crawling, and eventually walking.

Noah Noah Noah Noah
Noah Noah Noah Noah
Noah Noah Noah Noah

This last year, you’ve come up with some new answers to that question: you want to draw, and write letters, and make cards, and wear dresses and fancy shoes; you want to write your own stories about penguins and robots and rocketships, and watch Star Wars (not just yet, I’m afraid), and build a space shuttle, and make new friends at kindergarten; you want to read by yourself, and play the ukelele; you want to help bake and make soup, and make your own breakfast; you want to organize your own parties, and shape your world. You’re changing so fast now, becoming confident, making and remaking your own identity, making your choices.  There’s nothing I like more than being your dad.

What do you want to do with your body on Earth? Let’s go see. Happy birthday.