birthday boy

13 years ago today, we were both recovering from a very rough birth.

I was elated at the idea of calling my baby a him. Imagine it! After months of saying, “they think it’s a boy,” I could finally talk about my son. And I thought of him as a brother from the beginning. He was born a brother. So, I called him brotherman, and Mr. a lot in those early days.

10 years ago, we spent a lot of time together when your sister was in school. We even spent a decent amount of time at the school, too. You were forging your own relationship with the lunch lady, who loved you enough to buy you Christmas and birthday presents. You were bold enough to walk in the school to fetch your sister. The kids in her class called you little dude and stuff like that.

You always scared me to death with your boldness. You have never had any fear in the swimming pool, even when you struggled to keep your chin above water so you could talk trash to your teacher during your swim lesson.

You tackled riding bikes and skating with the same boldness. Watching you fly straight up in the air and land with a thud was terrifying. Yet you got right back up and fearlessly rode your bike back home.

Now you’re 13 and pursuing your own interests, like guitar, basketball, strategic games, etc. Even though you’re still really committed to the idea of kick butt (which I really don’t quite grasp), you are so gentle with your little brother. He will be a better man for having had you in his life.

I remember so much that happened over the course of this 13 years, even though it seems to have flown by. What I can’t much remember is what life was like before you came flying in after 2 hours and 43 minutes of labor. I am very grateful to have you as my son.

Happy Birthday, Xay