My dear son, you see that I’m getting older… Please, be patient with me!
My dear boy, can you see how quickly time flies, how the years are changing me? I ask you—please be patient with me.
Try to understand me when I need you, and know those moments will come more often.
Please, don’t get annoyed if I start repeating myself, telling you the same story for the second, third, or fifth time. Remember how I patiently taught you to say your first words and repeated the alphabet over and over until you knew the letters. Remember how many times I explained the same thing until you understood. I never grew tired, because you were my son, my flesh and blood.
So now, just listen to me, even if you feel like you’ve heard it all before.
Don’t be upset if I walk slowly, if I can’t keep up with you as I used to, if my legs fail me. Remember how I once held your little hand and taught you to walk. How you took uncertain steps, and I supported you so you wouldn’t fall. Remember how you ran and I chased you, laughing, catching you just in time so you wouldn’t get hurt.
Now it’s my time to be less fast, less strong, but inside, I’m still the same—your father.
Don’t criticize me if I can’t keep the house as spotless as before, if I forget where I’ve put things, or if I struggle with tasks. Remember how many sleepless nights I spent caring for you when you were sick. How I carried you when you had a high fever, searched for the best doctors to help you recover quickly.
I was exhausted but never complained because you were my son.
Be patient with me if I can’t keep up with technology, if I don’t understand how a new phone or computer works. If I ask the same question several times. Give me time, explain again, hold back your frustration. Remember how I taught you to tie your shoelaces, how to hold a spoon, how I explained the world to you. I did it slowly, patiently, with love.
Don’t judge me because I continue to worry about you, even though you’re a grown man. I still wait for your calls, think of you, and pray for your well-being. And if I ask about what you’ve eaten, how your day was, or if you slept well—don’t brush me off. Just understand: to me, you’ll always be my boy.
Someday you’ll know what it’s like to wait when your child is out late, to listen for footsteps at the door and rejoice when they come home safe and sound.
I know that one day will come when I’ll be too weak to care for myself as before. I don’t know how I’ll be—maybe helpless, maybe forgetful, maybe irritable. But I ask you—not to turn away from me then.
Remember how I changed your nappies when you were an infant. How I soothed you when you were crying. How I protected you when you were scared.
If I start doing things differently than before, if my habits change, if my words become muddled—don’t get angry, don’t be distressed, don’t lose your patience. Just stay by my side.
When my time comes to leave this world, don’t grieve. Just know that I was happy because I had you—my son, my pride, my love.
May our best days remain in your memory. May you remember me strong, loving, and caring.
I’m grateful for every moment we’ve spent together.
And while we’re still together, while we can look into each other’s eyes, I want you to know—I love you, my son. Always.
