His tribe

My little man,

I hope that you continue to be happy, content and comfortable with your own self.

You are such a cautious person, have a gentle soul, a little shy and reserved. You get turned off by overly enthusiastic people. You are sensitive and need a lot of physical affection. You take a while to feel comfortable with someone, though once you do, you let yourself all out.
At daycare, you hang out with kids like you. Your best friend, that little guy by the fence  is like you. Perhaps even a touch more cautious and shy.

When you grow up, I hope you continue to stay true to yourself. That you don’t waste your time to try to fit in. That you don’t lose yourself to be accepted. That you have the confidence to be yourself.

I hope you find your own tribe early and have them take good care of you.


Do you know, out of the many many hurtful things you’ve said to me, that makes me the saddest? Even more than a decade later?

It was when you said that I don’t sing. That you have never heard me sing or hum to a song.

Have you not remember  (or care to remember?) that I was part of the church choir? That I joined the  work choir? That the few happy memories with you in it was us singing at the top of our lungs to sad love songs? 

How did I become so…. unheard to you?