An Open Letter To My Boys

My boys left school last week. The little birds flew the coop to see what the rest of the world has to offer. It left me with a strange, indescribable emptiness that I can only liken to empty nest syndrome. Here is what I would say to them. More accurately, here is what I have been saying to them over the last year, just perhaps not in so many words.


To you three,

Off you go, now. Go see things. Go see things. All things you can possibly think of. Be the ultimate, Zen-lunatic dirtbags you’re meant to be. And I know you know what I mean; I say ‘dirtbag’ with the utmost respect.

Boys, go. Go forth. Educate yourself, whatever that looks like to you. Taste things you’ve never tasted before, like the air on top of a mountain in Colorado before you hit the powder below you. Taste things like the local cuisine in some foreign country that you can’t even speak the native language of.

Go. Get the hell out of here. Take your talents, your brains, your words, your hearts, your passions and get the hell out of dodge. For your own sake, get your asses out of here. You know you can always come back, but for now… just go.

It’s not that we don’t love you. Not that we don’t want to see you. We do. We miss you so much. We missed you the moment you left, but what you need to do now is spread your strange, bizarre, foul-mouthed wings and go.

Go to college. Or don’t.

You could just buy a van and travel the states writing poetry and drinking life to it’s dirty lees. You could do that, and I can’t say I’d be disappointed in you.

Because even though you’ve been shits, and you know it, I’ve never been disappointed in you. You have a fire in your eyes, in your mouths, in your brains… you’re practically frothing at the mouths to do something amazing. My heart knows you’re capable of so much.

And I know you’re scared. Boys, you’re big fish where you are…. But let me share something with you: Sometimes, being the terrified, insignificant fish is where you grow the most. Go, be insignificant. Relish the vast, grand indifference of the universe.

Boys… boys. You are so loved. If I said it once, I said it a hundred times: I love ya, kids, but I mean it… get out of here and go spread your beautiful wings.

I can’t wait to meet you again after you’ve tasted something different.

You know I will always be here to make pancakes for you. You know Flynn and I will always be willing to help you out of a situation. You know you are loved. You know you are capable. Now, know that you can go do something more powerful than you ever dreamed.

I know I’ve dreamed it for you. Now, go.


Mrs. J


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