Half a Dozen

Sweetheart, you turn six today. Six years since you entered our lives just before midnight on the 15 of January, 2003. Yours was an unexpected blessing. Upon conception, I was certain that you were a boy. Daddy and I never even considered girl names during my pregnancy, and all of our friends and family were certain that because I was so steadfast in your maleness--you must certainly be a girl. The ultrasound at 20 weeks--the week of my 20th birthday--I received the best gift of all. You were indeed the little boy I had prayed about and envisioned

After your birth, I held you briefly and then Daddy took you into the nursery to give you your first bath. At 2 o'clock in the morning, Grandma Fellows came to the hospital and took this picture. Your Daddy was so amazed and awed at your presence, this person who was part him and part me. We took such joy in those early days, sweetheart. That joy has only been multiplied since then.

You were the ultimate 'Daddy's boy'. You giggled for him like you hardly giggled for anybody else. He spent as much time with you as possible. I have so many pictures of you sleeping soundly while curled up on his chest. What a special bond you two grew!

Right before Kadon was born, Grandma Fellows and I found the bacon and eggs fabric. I bought enough for Daddy to have pajama pants, and there was enough left over to piece together a pair for you. You used to put yours on, and then ask Daddy "Daddy, put your bacon and eggies pants on so we can match!". What a pair!

After your brother came along, you grew another special bond. You two fight like only brothers can, and love like only brothers can. I have found you snuggled up in bed together several times in recent years. You teach him about Lego's the way that Daddy taught you when you were his age. You are such an amazing big brother to him, and now to your sister Brooklyn. They are blessed to have you in their lives, as am I.

Before you left to school this morning, you saw this picture. You said "I won that game! And that's how I got my cow!" Sweetheart, I am constantly amazed by your memory. I hope that it doesn't fail you in years to come. The memories you have of your Daddy and the things you shared are absolutely priceless. Sometimes, your memory is even better than mine. When we go to the grocery store and I am disoriented upon exiting, I always ask you where we parked. More often than not, you can tell me. You remind me of your Daddy in so many ways. His brand of intelligence and observation is your brand of intelligence and observation--he shines through your eyes. Thank you, baby, for being a much-needed link to him. I treasure your ever impish smile and funny uttering.

Ah, the recycling boxes. You would play with them for hours! Your favorite was the robot. You still occasionally play with paper bags and boxes today, but now you favor building houses and guns, instead of wearing the garbage.

I have several pictures of you busting various grooves. When we ride in the car, you're the one to yell: "I need more grooving!" We turn up the radio, and dance along as best we can. Sometimes, your demand for 'more grooving' interferes with driving, but I don't mind. It's cute.

You love to pose for pictures. Kadon isn't always cooperating with your show of photogenic affection. Did I mention how grateful I am for the bond you share? It's so tender to watch. I hope you two stay as close as you are today.

Baby, you have had to carry such responsibility since Daddy died. I have relied on you to help me more around the house than any other 6 year old I know. You do chores, you help with your little brother and sister, and you have given me countless comforting hugs. I'm sorry I haven't been the greatest Mommy this year. I don't tell you often enough how much I treasure your sweet spirit into our home. I don't take enough time to simply enjoy your company. You are an incredible blessing in my life. You are an example to me of perfect faith and forgiveness. I am so sorry that your best friend isn't here to celebrate this milestone with you. I know you feel the loss deeply, but your perfect faith that you will see him again--but more importantly that he is still here with us--humbles me. You often tell me that Daddy is still with us, we just can't see him. You are a testament to the faith of a little child, and I so admire that.

I love you, baby. You are such a blessing and a joy to me and to all who know you. Keep smiling that smile of yours, and laughing that laugh. You think you're getting too big for snuggles and kisses--but today I'm going to try to steal some anyway. You're growing up so fast, and I know if I wait it will be too late. I love you!