Four years ago today, I was driving back home from an interview. And on the way back, my mom called to tell me that my sister had her second baby – my beautiful nephew Kevin.
Just like I cried for his brother, three years before, I cried for his arrival, too. Out of joy, bewilderment, amazement of how life “happens”, and gratitude. Lots of gratitude!
We each are brought into this world through our own miracle. It’s ours to keep forever. It’s ours to keep and share, and develop into whatever it is we want it to be, later. We put our unique stamp on it and make it more beautiful than it was given to us originally, or sometimes less than beautiful – it’s what we make of it that will matter in the end, with the help of some luck.
Four years later, Kev is so much different than anyone hoped that he would be, so much different than his brother, and parents and rest of the family put together, although we can chase all our roots into him: his smile, his antics, his love of gab and food, his intelligence, his wit, his caring and love for everyone …
Fighting his brother for screen time on Facetime tonight
He loves animals (or as he calls them “Ah-nee-MOL-s”) more than anything. And snakes and “little furry hamsters”, too. He asked for a “little bear brown” for his birthday, and nothing else. He speaks two languages fluently (English and French) and he’s just ramping up in Romanian and going fast!
No one, and I mean not a soul, not a cranky, angry, Grinchy soul can ever keep a straight face when met with his smile. If you’re too serious, he’ll make sure it won’t happen for long.
He’s literally a bundle of joy, because he gives that, he radiates that to everything and everyone around him.
God or life have given him some tough burdens, even in the few years he’s been here. We never had any history of asthma in either of our families – but he was diagnosed with it, at least 2 years ago and he fought it like a trooper. He still does, every day. This winter, he got chickenpox, a more severe form than his brother (the more “fragile” of the two!). He smiled at the facetime screen and asked me then “A., do you see my booboos? All cute … Sometimes I think God picks him to handle the worse burdens because … he will carry them with a smile. Some things that would crush his more sensitive brother, leave him unfazed and still chuckling … Still finding a soft, furry pet to talk about … That and “the trash packs”.
He’s his brother’s best friend, and worst enemy all at the same time, as brothers (and sisters) go. He is smart, witty and a joker. The very picture of the joker, right in the dictionary next to the definition of it.
He puts on his mom's glasses and says: "A., look! I am mami!"
He simply makes my day and adds at least 5 more years to my life when he smiles at the screen that separates us and says “A., I love you!”. Melted away. Puddle on the floor and nothing else!
Happy birthday, little man! You’re the sunshine and the joy of a large family that adores every minute of your existence and the very snowy Canadian soil you walk on every day. I miss and love you – always …Stay you!
Then and now: four year transformation. Still a miracle!