My Son, no longer a boy…

By: Daniel E. Kramer

Elliott, how do I begin, how do I even start? 

There are no words to express my love for you, my Son. You are the first child, the first boy. You carry forward our family name, you leave your mark as you go, and you left your mark on me on that day eight years ago tomorrow. 

I remember it all so well, just like it was yesterday, and now today here we are eight years later. At this very moment, eight years ago, the heat was nearly 100 degrees. Your mother was at that point of modeling in her Bikini to me and Grandma Deb. She thought she was in labor, how exciting and easy it was already shaping up to be…maybe more like a form of pre-labor.  It would turn out that there were many hours left to bring you into this world.

Whimsical, ecstatic, induction into the multi-faceted universe of being. Elliott Wesson Kramer, born in a flash of heat and fury, and then you looked at me, and your face was yours as it is now. Nearly no difference between now and then. I see the world in those eyes, Elliott, I see so much potential. There is potential in you to do anything that you set your mind and hard work to. Sure, there is a lot of talent within you too, but you hold more than that my Son. You hold ethic, tenacity, strength, and grit.

On this day, I find it necessary to tell you what becoming eight years old means in our world, in our family. You are no longer a mere child, or boy. You now begin the ritual, the dance, the sum of all that have come before you. You are the accumulation of time and space, experience and wisdom, and lessons learned; some of them very hard.  Always you will have the light-hearted spirit of a child, but now you must become a young man. Already, you have broken bones and healed, have splashed you own blood with own blade, used fire to stay warm, built huts and camps to survive, braved the depths of the wilderness, spotted and taken bucks, butchered our food, and raised gardens for our family to eat. 

I recognize your youth, and I have seen the fear in your eyes. The coyote that tried to kill our dog, the mountain lion in Etna, the bear we came face to face with in the Marble Wilderness. I understand the look...I know it far too well; I know the feeling. No longer need you fear. My son, no longer shall you need to fear the things in this world which define you. The bear, the lion, the coyote…these are our spirit animals, and they are the things we seek out to find as we walk the woods. We are there in those places to be with them, to either live or die by them. It is our humanity calling to us, and of all people. I know you truly understand this. You are now a man in his beginning steps, and will most certainly have many chances to fight and die by the ways of the woods if you choose. This thing I speak of, it is the ritual of all mankind, all womankind, and all humankind. It has been around for as long as we as humans have endured on this earth.

Elliott, tomorrow begins your new life. In the same amount of time as you have already lived you will be sixteen and will have likely had your first love, seen and hunted many an adventure, and fought in this world for more independence than our society can give a young man or woman these days. Just remember, when your great-grandfather was eight years old he was already mining for gold, working in the fields of the depression era days. When you grandpa was eight, he was already in the woods driving equipment, logging the forest, hiking to high mountain lakes alone. When I was eight, I adventured onto some of my first hunting trips with grandpa Curtis, went to the Salmon River without my parents, began going on geology field trips, and more.  Now that you are to be eight years old what will you choose to do? Where will you choose to go?

I am trying to tell these things to you as though I am not with you my Son, my sweet Elliott W. Kramer.  Now that you are to be eight, you will spend much time being the keeper of the farm, the keeper of the family. As I leave to the world to find food and shelter, and monies and duty for our family, I will rely on you more and more to hold down the fort. You are now becoming the man of the house, just as I did at eight, and my father before me, and so on.

There is still more to say, my Son. Much, much more…in case I never were to see you again, in case there wasn’t a good time to tell you all the life lessons that I have learned, in case you and I run out of time in this life to bask in the stories of each other, I want you to know at least the following:

Be true to the ones you love. Treat a woman with love and kindness. Love your Brother and Sister, and take care of them for me. Treat your most beloved like they are your best friend. Take time to look up, say hello, good day, and open the door for a stranger. Listen to those around you. Respect all people. Do not let the convictions of another drive you; too many times I have heard the expression “my word is my bond” only to have seen it broken. Do not let any other human being, whoever it may be, tell you to do something that you do not believe. If it is for your God or Country, your safety or your family, there may be times where you must do something unthinkable, but perhaps let’s imagine that it might be the only thing that could save them…maybe then, perhaps then. Always take care of your Mother.   Follow your dreams, and do not listen to the naysayers. If it were for the naysayers, I would not have married your mom, had you, become a geologist, or started our family’s business.  Listen to those that do. Never try, just do with intention and keep on keeping on. You already know this. Son, you already can play Gavotte for goodness sake!  And lastly, always brush your teeth before bed!

These are some of the things I want you to know. This day I speak of comes tomorrow, on the eve we sit, on the precipice we now lurk; tomorrow is a new day my Son. Go forth to open your eyes, with missing and new teeth, laying as you do on your deerskin blanket, waking peacefully next to Revy the Cat, looking eyes wide open into your life. Behold the boy no longer, the man Elliott, our Kramer Man Cub has arrived.

With such age comes responsibility, but with such responsibility comes much more freedom. Freedom is what you make of it my Son. Some say freedom is nothing left to lose.  I say when you recognize that you already have everything you would ever need, that you are finally free to live.

Elliott, you are the most important thing that ever happened to me. Then Gideon came, then Lula Mae, and here we are.  Of course, just for the record, I will always love your Mother more than anything else in the world…sorry, but she is the best😊. Someday I hope that you too get the gift of our kind of love…all in time my Son, all in due time. 

Happy Birthday, my eight-year-old Son, who tomorrow is no longer a boy…