What’s your name, son?
Are you another Robert like your dad and your granddad? Or did we name you something else?
I once wanted to name my son Abimanyu, Bim for short. Abimanyu is a son of the Hindu God, a brave warrior. Your grandma didn’t approve the name because the real Abimanyu died in a battlefield, and who would want his son to tragically die in a battlefield? I guess if you’re not an Abimanyu, that’s because of your grandma. That or I lost in a bet with your dad and he got to name you Robert or other western names.
As I’m writing this letter to you, I am yet married to your dad. But I’m engaged to your dad and we plan to get married next year.
We both agree not to have child too soon after the wedding. We need time to enjoy each other’s company, just the two of us. We need to do that after more than 3 years courting via email and phone only. Your dad would want us to travel some more and I may want to go to get my bachelor degree in English or Photography.
By the time we’d decide that we’re ready to have a child, it might be in the year 2014.
I would be much older than now and so would your dad. Maybe by that time we also think that we’re too old to have a child and despite how your dad loves kids, we have agreed to just let go the offspring issue. But, what the heck, if you read this letter then it means I have a kid, maybe 2.
A few weeks back, when discussing about soccer in the World Cup, your dad wants to have a kid who plays soccer. Any. Not only son, but he wants his daughter to play soccer. I had a slight objection of having a daughter who plays soccer (although I did play soccer when I was in college), but I support his idea of having a soccer player boy. We dream that you would be a soccer player who would help your country wins the World Cup. Your name would be written in the history. It’s fun to have a dream like that.
I don’t know if your dad has a same dream and expectation from you. I know he wants some great combination of brain and muscle, but I also expect you to have some musicality ability. Maybe piano so you can play and I can sing. Even better get you a vocal coach so we can sing a duet. Or some other artsy thing. Maybe you also inherit your granddad and your uncle talents in painting; maybe we share a passion in writing or taking good pictures. I expect you to be an outgoing and popular student at school. But all of those are really not my biggest expectation from you. My biggest expectation from you is you to be healthy and happy.
A friend of mine told me that it won’t be easy being a parent. It’s true. I’ve watched my parents raising me and your aunts and uncles. I learn a lesson or two from watching them. There are moments I’m sure that you’re going to hate me, especially in your teenage years. You wouldn’t want to drive me to places; you’re so popular you would want to spend all those times with your buddies. You wouldn’t want to take Chemistry class; you want to take more of social studies instead. You don’t want to be seen with me. The list would be endless. You might despise those days, but I want to remember those days forever. Those would be the days that I would really have you as my little boy.
I would let you go during your college years, and you’d be on your own.
You’d be in your adult life and I would no longer tell you what to and what not to do.
Whether you would be single or married or divorced after that, whether you’re gay or straight, whether you make good money or not, I would still be proud of you just as long as you live your life like my biggest expectation : healthy and happy.
I somehow know you’d grow up into a daddy’s boy. You would spend hours with him and your dad would tell you the stories of his younger years. If you can endure the long hours, he’d tell you his days when he was still a sergeant or even younger. How he gets a real great experience living overseas serving for his country. How he jumped off the plane and had his nose broken for many times. You would laugh along with him and before you know it you might even be inspired to be a soldier, being a brave warrior like Abimanyu.
I should be worried.
It’s a mother’s job to be worried. But the other job mothers have is to love the kids unconditionally.
Don’t worry about me Son, be a soldier if that’s what you do.
And don’t forget to aim for the moon; if you miss you may hit a star.