Thank you, son

thank you, son

july 09, 2025

I haven’t had as much time  
to create lately.  

But I haven’t drifted.  
I’m still present.  

The photos still come.  
The writing does too.    
Maybe slower. Maybe less.  

I think that’s what restraint really is.  
Not holding back my good stuff,  
just not rushing it.  

You’ve slowed me down  
just enough  
to see it better.  

To notice the light on the rug.  
The bird flying behind me.  
The speck in your eye when you see it.  
The breath before an attempt.  
The curls in your hair when you nap.  
The way your toes spread when you stand.  
The new sounds in my voice  
when I read to you,  
pretending to be different characters  
in the book.  
You and your mother’s shadow on the door  
when the sun is setting.  
The plane high in the sky  
that you noticed first.  
The pause between picking something up  
and deciding if it matters.  

Nothing I create now  
feels rushed.  

Nothing feels missing,  
even if it is.  

You’ve taught me that.  

You don’t always have to be producing  
to be growing.  

Being present is a creative act,  
because it changes what you notice  
and how much it matters to you.  

So thank you, son.  
Not just for giving me something to write about.  
Not just for giving me something to photograph.  
But for helping me wait  
until it’s ready to be recorded.