You feel more like an old companion than a wee 15 week old thang. I don’t believe in reincarnation, but I do believe in ‘old souls’… eyes that are deeper and spirits that are somehow smoother and more aware. You are an old soul.
And you are already a full incarnation of your name, child.
You are a “Bringer of Light”. You are a Lantern Holder at the house gate… Lighting up new dimensions of happiness in your mamma’s heart, in your brother’s heart, in your papa’s heart.
You slipped right into your familial spot like a ball being thrown to a juggler at just the right moment. Suddenly, there were more of us in the air, in the equation, but you were absorbed so seamlessly- it was like there was always space for you- just waiting for you to tumble in and fill it.
You are definetly a “rolls with the punches” kind of a guy. Nothing ruffles your feathers too much. You can get ticked, but it lasts about 8 seconds… and then you’re over it.
I like that in a man.
It’s almost like you’re all, “Rawr! The NERVE of some people! How DARE you?! How dare you… how… how… meh. This is SO not worth my time.”
This will be a good trait to maintain, son, because probably 97% of the stuff we adults spend our time fretting over and stressing over and wearing our bodies down over aren’t really even worth a second thought.
You talk a lot more than Ezra ever did when he was a baby. You concentrate very hard on your conversations with people, and today in the backseat, while we were driving back home, you said something that sounded EXACTLY like “underwear”. Ezra and I looked at eachother and just started busting our guts. I had tears in my eyes it was so funny. And then, a couple of days ago, I could have sworn you said ‘umbrella’.
You also have this one noise you repeat often that sounds like a goo-y version of “ezra”.
Whenever you do that one and your big brother is around, he just about blows a gasket. He thinks it’s so hilarious and he gets right in your face and says “yes? can i hewlp you, mymy?” And then he laughs some more.
See? Bringer of light.
You are more than I could have ever dreamed for, darling. I fear these moments are slipping away too fast. My memory has never been worth beans, and there’s a deep feeling of panic in my gut that these times with you are slipping out of my reach like someone pouring lemonade through a colander. There is this terror in me that there will only a few bits of pulp left to sort through in my mind as time steamrolls on.
I want to remember everything about you. Every facial expression, every sound, and the way your toes seem to sit on top of your foot like ten of those little cocktail sausages.
I know it’s impossible to capture someone fully in memories like that, but I’m going to try and keep as much of you as I can in my mind.
I can think of no lovelier thing to fill the space with.
I love you, bean.