Wednesday, June 24, 2009

June 24, 2009 Dear Alex

Dear Alex,
A few days after Father's Day and I'm thinking about you, your brother and these blogs. I'm not sure I ever explained to you why your blog is so different than your brothers.

Max's started by fluke. I wrote the story of his birth just for your mama and me. Then a few weeks later Max had his picture in the paper. The paper came out on a Tuesday -- the same day he was born. Thus, the idea of "Tuesdays with Max" (an obvious rip off of the book "Tuesdays with Morrie" was born. Writing his blog has become an obsession and a great way to look back on the week and at his development.

And then you came along. "Saturday's with Alex" just didn't have the same ring to it. I thought about merging Max's blog with yours and starting "The X Boys" or "My Two Sons" or something like that. Eventually you'll learn that I'm not the type to repeat myself. I can also be resistant to change. Thus, I decided on a new type of blog for you and to continue Max's blog.

I did make a couple changes. I added "and a bit about Alex" to Max's blog and "and Max" to yours. I know I need to do a better job specifically documenting your progress.

The idea of "Letters for Alex" was to have a way to tell you about you, me and those around us. Initially the blog was called "Letters to Alex." I changed it to "Letters for Alex" when I realized there was stuff I wanted you to know that was best told to others. Someday I suspect you will look at this blog like someone who finds a bunch of saved letters in an attic.

Sunday, June 14, 2009

May 14, 2009 Dear Van Man,

Dear Van Man,

Thanks for stopping by a few days after you scared the hell out of me to apologize. I'm sure you had the right intentions when you stopped to tell Max to move away from the street. But you scared the hell out of me that day.


I never thought I was the paranoid type. But when you stopped, rolled down the window and said something to my three-year-old son I freaked out. I watched the whole thing from my side porch where I was putting away a stroller while Max played in the front yard. He never left my site for a second.

I saw your van stop.

I saw the window go down.

And I sprinted toward the van as it pulled away.

You stopped.

You explained that you were just trying to be nice by telling this small boy to get away form the street.

I said "you better have" and memorized your license plate number.


Later that evening I told my wife what happened. She thought it was important for me to call the police. They came by after our boys were sleeping. They assured me that it was most likely just as you said it was: someone trying to be helpful.

But I've seen the shows and my wife has produced the TV shows that have little kids disappearing in just these type incidents.
So I freaked. And I held that feeling for a few days.

Then you came back a few days later and apologized and pointed out that you live just a few doors down the street. You told me you thought about the incident too and that you have a granddaughter and if you were in my position you'd likely have reacted even stronger.


I accept your apology.

I also accept my reaction.

And I feel bad that I don't know more of my neighbors.