The Best Christmas Present Ever

You need nothing but love and support

I’ve been away. I’ve been to some dark places, dangerous territories, and nasty environments, all without ever leaving home.

I’ve been lost. I’ve become someone undesirable, unreliable, and unlikeable, all the things I never wanted to be.

I’ve been feeling so bad that I don’t even want to write about it, and I haven’t published anything in months.

The reason for that is weakness. I let adversity influence my performance. I used obstacles as excuses to justify my flaws. I was weak.

Christmas

This Christmas Eve, feeling as shitty as I’ve been feeling for the last few months, I got handed my son’s present to me. He was distributing the presents to the small bunch that spent Christmas with us, and I knew he was especially excited by that gift to me. After all, he made it himself the week before, and he has been telling me about it ever since.

It was 2 paper sheets with some hand drawings, taped together to form an envelope, with some papers inside.

He likes to do this kind of stuff, he calls it “Blind Bags”, as they always have some surprise inside, also made by him.

I was expecting some more drawings, maybe an “I ❤️ You”, or something like that. That would have been nice and lovely, but it wasn’t that.

He didn’t say he loved me, he showed it to me!

Inside that handmade envelope, there were 3 small paper notes and 4 blank strips of paper, all stapled together.

On the 3 paper notes he wrote the most simple and beautiful lines anyone ever wrote to me:

“If you like to write, someday you’ll be a writer and you’ll become famous.

You’ll have so much to write, and now even more.

Write about what you enjoy! I bet it will be fun, use these 4 sheets.”

And that's how a 9-year-old disarmed me of all the self-imposed defenses that had confined me under a false sense of security and a vague promise of protection from the risky act of living.

“I believe in you, I have faith in you, here are 4 blank pieces of paper, write about what you enjoy, I’m sure it will be good.”

I cried when I was alone rereading those lines. I failed him many times, I’m far from being the father he deserves and that I aspire to be.

I failed his mother who supported me many times when I was taking another writing course and couldn’t leave my desk to help her.

I failed by swearing to myself that “This is it, I’m gonna make it this time”, and then falling back to the same errors of the past.

I’m afraid to say “This is it” again, but those little pieces of paper held so much love and power that I needed to be a complete asshole not to be changed by it.

So, this is it.

My 9-year-old son changed my life in a way that he can’t possibly understand right now, but I’ll make sure he knows, the way he taught me. I won’t tell him, I’ll show him. Every day for the rest of my life.

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Maybe 5 or 10 years from now you’ll get to read this. I want you to know that you are already better than me, I’m very proud, thank you for being you.

“I ❤️ You”