Little Bear, you took your first steps on one of Momma’s favorite days – August 1st. This is the day that Switzerland celebrates its national day. I’ll tell you a lot of things about it when you’re growing up. We may even go see the little hill with the flag.
“Bower,” our family’s patriarch, just wrote to Momma and said, “My boy already knows history! He was waiting for this auspicious moment. R.” Indeed.
You let go and walked straight to me. Didn’t look down. Didn’t stumble. Didn’t have the nervous heartbeat that Momma had. Just walked right to me.
On August the 1st.
When Momma lived in her beloved country, she celebrated Swiss National day every year and we will continue to celebrate it. In 2009, I hugged a St. Bernard, ate Raclette, and watched fireworks fill the sky over Zürich. In 2014, I sang at The Hospice of Grand St. Bernard. I opened my mouth and sang the Schweizerpsalm, by memory, in front of a wonderful crowd. It was magical. Last year, I was in the hospital because we were trying to keep you cooking! I still sang the Schweizerpsalm.
This year was such a sad August 1st for Momma because ich habe Heimweh aber du hast mir die Schweiz gebracht. Bärli. Möckli. Augöpfli. Ängeli.
I dream that someday, maybe, your first steps across a Swiss bridge will happen in Luzern on an August 1st? Maybe your first steps climbing a mountain will happen in the Valais on an August 1st? Maybe your first steps in a new office will happen in Geneva on an August 1st? Probably not. Most offices would be closed.
Anyway, great dreams. Crazy dreams. Just like Momma has always had.