Dear son, you are a teenager today
It is hard to believe the little bundle of joy that was handed to me by the nurse 13 years ago is now a teenager who is as tall as me. Like in the past years, here is my annual letter to you on your birthday, the 29th of March. This may be the last time I write this - you spend a lot of time on the Internet and are likely to stumble on this soon if you haven't already. So here we go.
Dear son,
It has been a very interesting year. In the past, I used this letter as an opportunity to reflect on all the new things you picked up, the things you lost interest in and in general, all the changes in the past year. This year has been different, for you, for us and for everyone else. We have spent the entire year pretty much bumping into each other within the same four walls due to a pandemic that has defined 2020 for the entire world. In the process, we have had some good, some not so good, some fun, and some not so fun days. But deep down I think your mother and I have just seen you grow into a normal teenager. We argue passionately and something tells me its only going to increase in the next few years but I am ready for it - and hopefully we will both be better people for it.
Your smile lights up the room, and your booming laugh which has been changing over the past few months is still as infectious as it has ever been. In many ways, you have become quieter than you ever were and louder than you have ever been. You are still the resident clown in our house and you are more funnier the lesser you try.
Your reading habit is still your best. You have expanded your horizons to read more complex stories but the joy you get out of reading an old Asterix for the 15th time still cracks me up. And our walks, whenever they happen are easily the best part of my day, bar none. This past year, we watched the Hobbit and Lord of the Rings trilogies together as a family. It was super fun sharing what your mother and I have enjoyed over the years with you. But what is even more awesome is our shared enthusiasm for "The Great British Baking Show" that the three of us watch together every weekend. Many years from now when much of the pandemic hopefully fades away from memory, this is one thing I will remember very fondly. Of you guffawing at every baking disaster and your mother and I worrying if you'll wake our neighbors up.
Your passion for Carnatic vocal music continues to grow by leaps and bounds and your dedication to the art continues to blow us away. You have been blessed with a patient and encouraging teacher and the improvement you have shown in the past year is a testament to his blessings and all your hard work. You have also developed an interest in Indian classical violin and have been enjoying it this past year. While the bass guitar is less louder in the living room than it used to be, your occasional practice sessions for school band are still a joy to listen to. Even better are your rare but thoroughly enjoyable experiments with it (sample)
I want to spend a moment talking to you about your two other big passions - board games and biking. In the past year, you have found solace in Settlers of Catan and Ticket to Ride, filling your weekend afternoons playing with your friends over Zoom or your mother and I in person. Your joy in organizing bike rides with friends or even the one you take most afternoons by yourself to get away from the confines of the house is just awesome. That you have found things to keep your sanity in an extraordinarily challenging year speaks much about your grit and tenacity. These skills will come in handy in your life.
Your mother and I, while we miss the little child who used to run around the house goofing around, see a fun-loving, occasionally lazy, but honest and sincere teenager that we are incredibly proud of. Your mother and I are excited for the year ahead and what you will choose to do. We will hug you tight and kiss you on your cheeks (yes, we will) every single day for you bring us the greatest joy in our lives.
Happy birthday dude! Love you so much.
Appa