6

My beautiful blue-eyed boy, today you are six.   Today you move another year away from the dependency of infanthood, the obstinance of toddlerhood, the independence of a preschooler.   I look at your freckled face and see more of the man you are becoming with each passing day.
 

In this last year around the sun you grew in so many ways.  Physically you are strong and lean. You are happy to go shirtless for any and all reasons.  You have a giving spirit and are protective of your little brother. 

Watching the relationship between you and Ian grow is sweet goodness. Finally at age two he is willing to try anything if you do first.  Our house is loud, chaotic, and filled with the sounds of playing and fighting.  Love grows at our home, just at an ear-deafening decibel.

You often ask about what is a good friend?  Among the many conversations we’ve had in our 10 minutes alone before daycare pickup we’ve talked about how being kind, doing for others, listening more than we talk.  I hope that these many car conversations are times you will recall later that were while average everyday afternoons, that I treasured the time between us.
   

During this past year you became fearless in the water, loving the giant waterslides at the pool.  You played t-ball, took swim lessons, tried martial arts, started going to church on a regular basis.  We’ve talked about God, about faith, about dying this past year.  For the first time ever I’ve felt a maturity to your questions, your thinking, and your desire to want to know more.

Talking to you about your Mema’s death taught me that you will process everything in your own way.  It saddens me when you talk about missing her knowing all the special events in your life she will never know.  My hope as your mom that I will live a long life and love the future children you will father. 

This year you started kindergarten at a new school with new friends.  So many days you met me with open arms and a hugged-filled, chattering play by play of your day.  Watching you make friends, laugh and joke makes me smile that socially you are maturing.
  

The tears I had for you at your end of year celebration were in part happiness to see your bright smile in so many pictures of your year.  But they were also because of how hard this year has been for your father and I as we made decisions that will impact the rest of your life.

You are our son, not a label or a diagnosis. I can’t ask you to understand the depth of our love or the extent to which we will go to give you every chance at a successful and healthy life until you make these decisions for your own children. 

My beautiful boy may the sun always shine on your face as you travel another year around the sun.  So much goodness lies ahead for you.  If all I ever do in my life is to be called mom then I have lived a good life. 

Happy 6th Birthday my sweet Ben! Love,  Mom and Dad