Happy 5th birthday, Matteo! I have been waiting for this birthday for many months because I am convinced you were 4 years old for far too long. Seriously, it felt like two years. You developed so much in height, strength, articulation, and ideas you outgrew your age by months. Age 5 looks better on you. Fit matters.
This birthday you’ve enjoyed a flood of gifts, mostly in the Monster Jam and dinosaur categories. I chose to go religious-sentimental-nostalgic, gifting you a gold-plated chain and cross that came in a special Amazon-vendor provided small box with solicitation for a 5-star review.
The reason I got you this chain is because I proudly wore my own up through about 2nd or 3rd grade. The story of my chain was that it included a medallion from Italy that my Nonna procured. Or so I was told. That medallion could have come from Italy or could have been made in a penny presser at the Woodland Park Zoo, but regardless it had a face of Jesus and I thought it was incredible. The chain broke many times over the short years and was replaced by several chains Aunt Nina didn’t know she had. The only reason I stopped wearing the medallion was because it finally became lost on the school playground.
I wasn’t sure if you’d like the gift and failed to convince your Mom that I needed my own chain to encourage you to wear yours. She allows you a wider aperture of style than I get to enjoy. That didn’t matter because you took right to it and immediately identified the cross as a small sword or gold lightsaber, which is about right because we spend more Sundays at ski resorts, pools or trails than we do churches.
Coincidentally, you and Eliza just finished a first week of “vacation bible school,” which I learned is church-subsidized summertime daycare. It’s another reason to love the church. Upon seeing the cross, Eliza unexpectedly announced, “Jesus died for our sins on the cross and came back to life after three days.” That superb recall solicted curious conversation about why the cross was made of wood and not gold, how Jesus came back to life and if Santa helped with the miracle. These are legitimate questions that I gracefully navigated by confirming the cross materials and how Santa and Jesus are co-conspirators who make a big deal out of Jesus’s birthday. Existential crisis solved.
I’m not sure how long this cross and chain will last. Maybe you’ll decide not to wear it, or maybe you’ll lose it to some playground like I did. Maybe it will never be a religious token to you but it will be cultural to me. You’re an Italian-American boy and, like teething on pizza crust, playing soccer, and being devilshly charming, wearing a chain is just part of the program. Buon compleanno, bello!
Love, Dad