The other day, I could tell you needed some mommy time. The chaos of this house wears on you sometimes, and I think you get tired of competing with all the noise. You long to be seen, to be reminded you are loved (we all do, don't we?) So I let you come along while I dropped off the girls. When they were gone, you moved to the front seat, and you picked the song. I cranked it up loud, and on impulse, I grabbed your hand as we sang together. Your hand held mine gladly, and that sweet little smirk appeared on your face, the one I see when you are seen, loved, and happy. We stayed that way all the way home, and I could tell your heart was filling up to bursting.
Five years ago, you were born into this loud chaotic family. At that time, Aggie was horribly ill. You were a bright spot of life and grace during one of our most difficult years as a family. You were a sermon to me, a daily reminder of God's life-giving, miracle-working power. You constantly demanded that we hold you close, and you still love to receive love through closeness. You hold your raggedy blankie, you curl up nearby, and you are content. I am learning so much from you, about embracing, sitting close, and just being together.
"MAAAAAM! You HAVE to come see this!"
You are a "noticer," and an excited one. You yelled this to me last week, running to me, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the flower garden. "Buds! Those are gonna be leaves, mama!"
"Spring is coming, Eldon, isn't that wonderful!?" Finally. And thanks to you, we will stop and notice every indication that it is so: The buds, the (finally) green grass, the robin, the sprouting flowers, the other robin, the warm breeze, the other robin...
I love the way you notice, and I love that you want to share this with me.
You know what else I noticed? Before you were even five, you jumped on that two-wheeler and conquered it. Oh, child number five, do you know that you are the youngest Cook kid to learn to ride? You were wearing a winter coat that day you first wanted to try, so your first little spills were padded. Now, there are no spills, only speed, and that proud smile. I see, Eldon. I am proud of you.
My dear Eldie, you are loved. Happy fifth birthday.
Mom (or as you say MAAAAAM!!!)