Why I have been emailing my son since he was 2-month old
He is now 2 years old, and he has been getting emails from me, my wife and our close family for the past twenty-two months on his personal Gmail account. At this point, you must be wondering: why would a 2-month old baby would get emails from his dad, mom and other relatives?
I can’t recall the exact reason behind this idea, but I would guess this came from the frustration of not being able to talk to him, like really talk to him. We have had some difficult times, like any parents, and when it happens you wish you could tell him things, explain things. And when you had a great day, you want to tell him, and make sure he remembers it.
So he has been getting emails. 44 at the moment. When he turns 18, or whatever age we decide to choose for this event, he will get an access to this account. If he wants to, actually. Maybe he will be in the middle of a teenage crisis and we will decide to wait a little longer. Or maybe we will precisely decide to choose this occasion to share a gift that took 18 years to prepare, the longest gift I would have prepared.
So he will probably get a card, with a Gmail address on it, and a password. Actually, the Gmail address would probably be the one he wanted to create himself but could not because it was already taken. Which would be weird at that time because our family name is really uncommon. That might surprise him at that exact moment, but the Internet is full of weirdos with dozen of addresses, so whatever. He gets this card with the address, and a cheesy password we chose, based on his firstname, the name he would have gotten if he was a girl, the year and some special characters. Maybe in 18 years you will connect with your fingerprints or heart beat, I have no idea. This is actually why I check-in the account every 3 months, to make sure everything is there, is not filled with spam, and still works. No, I don’t read the emails. Of course not. Yes, I can see who wrote and the emails subject, but I don’t really read them. This is 44 and counting unread and unopened emails.
He gets the card, and he gets an explanation with it. In 18 years, I will probably be the same as today, very optimistic, hoping for the best, wishing he loves it. He will probably thank us politely (because he will be a polite teenager), thinking this is a lame gift. Or thinking he wanted to use this email address for years and could not because of his weird father.
Or maybe he will understand. He will understand this was important for us to talk to him like he was an adult. Tell him the great days we had with him. Show him pictures of this trip to the zoo we had. Share with him the worst moments we had, the ones that made us a cry in the inside or the outside, but got a little better because we talked to him about it. He will also get a few emails from his uncles, ant, grand parents, godfather or godmother. There would probably be gaps in the dates, several months without an email and then a few about this and that. The email would probably be boring, just as boring as the old videos we saw of ourselves when we were kids.
But those souvenirs might end up being way more. Maybe he gets the card on a special occasion. His 18 birthdays, the 10th he has been living with his uncle and ant. Because we are not there anymore. This has been very sudden, one day together, the next appart. The account has been found on our computer or we shared it with relatives in advance. And the gift ends up being the only discussion he would have with us in a very long time. Maybe he would discover parts of us he did not know about, hobbies we had or places we went he did not remember.
Maybe he will never get the card. Maybe I am the one getting reminded of this account automatically, after several years of inactivity. The same inactivity that filled our life since he was gone. Maybe this ends up being the last discussion I have with him, and the second saddest day of my life. At that moment, I would probably hate myself for doing this, re-opening such a scare. Or maybe I would be very glad, glad to be feeling something again besides sadness, a little joy of being with him for a little while, once again.
But I am very optimistic, remember? But not stupid. So in the end, I hope he just get the card from my hand to his, after 18 years living beside us, probably thinking this is lame, but being together…
PS : if you are part of the family or close friends, and wants his email address, reach out to me!
