It was sometime in the last week that I tried to give you a hug. I say TRIED, because when I went in for it, I realized that your shoulders were about as wide as mine, making a hug a whole lot more difficult than I remembered. My suddenly 14 year old son, who I am sure still has a lot of growing to do, could probably take me in a wrestling match; if you ever hung around long enough to give it a try. I remember pretending to wrestle on our bed, and letting you pin me for just a few seconds, before I flipped you over and made you give me “mooches” in order to get out from underneath me. Then I would let you charge me and push you backwards, sending you flailing back onto the bed, only to get up and try again. If I am being truthful, I do really miss those days. That’s not to say I don’t love you the way you are, it’s just that sometimes I wish I could have “little Zeke” back for just an hour or so. Someday, when you have kids of your own (a day that is WAY too quickly approaching), I’m sure you’ll understand. 

Sure, you’re bigger now – and in a year or two even my dead weighting strategy won’t be able to keep you down – but you really have had a big year Bub. 

Let’s start at the beginning shall we? Last summer our newly teenaged son, came to us and told us that he wanted to switch schools. I was very clear, that if that was something we were going to do, I needed to hear the WHY. The school we were at is a great place, and I needed to understand why we would make the change. I told you I wanted you to spend some time thinking about the why, and then come and have a talk with mom and I about the whole situation. I kinda figured that’s where it would end. Maybe I’d get a “because I want to” or a “I don’t have any friends where I am” – and I would say, “well those reasons just aren’t quite good enough.” I was FLOORED when you came up with basically a 5 point powerpoint presentation with really thoughtful and legitimate reasons that you thought the switch was a good idea. You wanted to make a change, and so we did. We followed your lead, and you did not disappoint. Yes, the classes were tougher, but we knew that going in. You did what you needed to work your way through that. You even passed Latin, which might be the most impressive thing you’ve ever done. But I am INCREDIBLY proud of how you saw what you wanted, attacked it with a purpose, and made it happen. I am sure that the change is what was best for you, and will continue to be; and you saw that before any of us. You’ve even made a habit of waking up, working out, and doing your homework, almost all before dad gets out of bed. That’s what a real young man does, and it’s what you did. 

Along with that change came a realization of some of the difficulties you have faced with focus and concentration. Over the course of this year, you’ve talked with us, you’ve talked with a counselor, and you’ve talked through how to make changes that can lead you to success in the future. As a person who has had to overcome mental hurdles of my own, I am SO glad that you took some initiative and went through the process of facing your own. No one gets through issues by ignoring them, and that’s not what you did. You acknowledged and owned what was going on, and did what you needed to address it. That’s what a young man does, and that’s what you did. 

Then there was a change in the most time and energy consuming part of your life. You made the decision to switch where you would be playing all the baseballs. Another conscious decision with well thought out reasons. And bud, I have to tell you, I could not be more proud of how you have taken it all in stride. Towards the end of the summer, we found out that for the first time in your baseball filled life – you weren’t going to be on the team you really wanted to be. When mom told me, I feared it would crush you, and honestly, I didn’t know what to expect. I am so glad I didn’t. Sure, you were appropriately bummed, and there were even a few tears – but those were to be expected, and I would say more than ok. When you mourn not getting something, it just shows how badly you wanted it. Lesser kids may have quit. They might have mailed it in. But I watched your attitude change within hours, and I saw you attack the ENTIRE offseason with pitching and hitting lessons, lifting weights, and going to every practice you could to get ready for the season. You could’ve quit on your new team before the games ever began – and yet, you did the opposite. You decided you wanted to show your teammates, your coaches, mom and dad, and really yourself too, that you could be a good teammate, and put yourself in position to get what you wanted for your future. That’s what young men do, and you’re continuing to do it. 

But the truth is that none of those things are what define you. They aren’t who Ezekiel really is. No school, no struggle, and no sport make you who you are. What does that, is the One who lives inside you. I have seen your understanding of Jesus grow, and your faith mature – and I’ve heard evidence of it, even when you didn’t know I was listening. Of all the things about you I am thankful for, NOTHING is more important to me than your love for Him, and I love seeing it grow as you do too. 

Over the course of this year, there has been one thing that hasn’t changed (almost) at all. YOU. Yes, you sometimes get that glazed over, mumbling and grunting, angsty teenager vibe going to be sure; but you ALWAYS snap out of it rather easily. Little Zeke was kind, and son, you still are. Little Zeke cared about others over himself; and bud, you still do. Little Zeke loved his sister SO much from the second he first held her in that rocking chair in the hospital room she was born in, and the way you still make time and space for her in your life, the way you still protect her, it makes my heart a great big pile of mush. Your love of trying new things, the way you laugh so hard you cry, the way your mom is still one of your favorite hangs, and the way your face still lights up every time you and I walk into Lambeau Field and what will always be Miller Park – all of these are things that little Zeke did – and they’re things that young man Zeke still is doing today. 

Ezekiel, sure you made me a dad, but you’ve made me SO much more than that. You’ve made me proud. You’ve made me humbled. You’ve made me laugh, and you’ve made me cry. You’ve made me grateful, and you’ve made me grumpy. You’ve made me feel more loved than I ever thought I could, and you’ve made me realize that nothing in this world can compare to the joy a person can feel in watching their little boy who you had to feed, bathe, change, and rock to sleep every night, become his own version of himself, the person God created him to be – a grown up great big young man.  

Yes, we’re watching Monty Python, Mystery Science Theater, and Dumb and Dumber instead of wresting on the bed; but I am thankful for this young man state of life as I was for little Zeke. It’s been a big year for you, Bub. You’ve done so much in just 365 days  and I can only imagine where and who you’ll be in 365 more. I am so thankful to have a front row seat. 

One last thing I know for sure, is that I will love that version of you then, just like I told little Zeke I loved him way back when, and just like I love you now. Forever and always and no matter what.