H, at church week before last, you got some of your scribbling out.

We took K to Sunday School, and you went with us to big church.

And when your mind begins to wonder during the sermon, as it would for any three year old, we naturally try to find you a distraction.

Usually in church we give you a white piece of paper and a pen.

And you know what you do?

You scribble like crazy all over that white paper.

I love it when you do.

I love it because they won’t let you do that at school.

Now I know it’s a developmental thing about learning to color in the lines, but you are three!

Why can’t you scribble if you want to?

And who ever got anywhere in the world by always coloring in the lines?

So we sit and listen to the sermon, and you get some of your scribbling out.

You just scribble all you want to.

I love you.

–Dad

You have a generous grandfather.

It’s a small thing, but I just wanted you to know that about Pop.

Maybe y’all are still calling him “Pop Pop?”

We each have our strengths and weaknesses.

And just like us, Pop has quite a few strengths, and a number of weaknesses.

But he is also incredibly generous.

For example, we were in Ruidoso recently, and it was Pop’s birthday.

And with a table of 11 people, he insisted on paying.

He nearly always insists on paying.

I think it was about a $150 dinner bill.

Now naysayers might say, “Of course he is generous. He has it. He is wealthy.”

But that’s non-sense.

There are plenty of people with money that are tightwads.

I hope you are generous too.

I love you.

–Dad

H and K, let me tell you about your special relationship.

See, we just got back from a weekend in Ruidoso.

K, you did not sleep well.

You did not really sleep at all.

The nights we were gone were rough on mom as a result.

But I told you that to tell you this.

H and K, K and H, you two already have a special relationship that I will never understand.

I will never know what it is to have a sibling.

But you two already have something beautiful.

One night, when K was not sleeping, we finally corralled H away from playing with cousins and grandparents.

Feet were washed, teeth were brushed, and pajamas were put on.

All the while, K screamed with discontent at being in our mountain cabin. Or possibly, she had an ear ache.

Either way, K was inconsolable.

We finally laid you two down in bed beside each other.

You both turned and looked at each other.

While you looked each other over, H, you patted K’s head, rubbed her head, played with her fingers, and gently touched her nose.

This went on for about three minutes as you gently grunted and squeaked at each other.

Then you both rolled on your backs, and promptly fell asleep.

Y’all are beautiful.

I know your relationship will ebb and flow as the years go by, but I hope you shake out as best friends.

Because you always have been.