He’s 11!

Oh, good Lord! You’re 11! 

I know you’re going to mock me as a cliché if I say “when did that happen?”, but seriously: when did that happen?! I guess when we were too busy getting old you were too busy sneaking around growing up. 

I remember like it was yesterday the first time I saw you. You were three months old and you were just lying on your day bed and your dad said you are already grown up and judging us. He said that the only things you could not do yet were to speak or walk. But you already knew everything, you already knew exactly how you felt about everything in the world and you could not wait for that one day when you’d finally be able to tell us. 

And, boy, was he right! You went from zero to 60 in less than 10 years, flat! You’re wiser than any kid I have ever met, smarter than most, more well-read and knowledgeable than you should have had time to be in 11 years ... 

On top of everything, you are the funniest human being I know, tied only, possibly, with your grandfather, my dad. 

Tonight, while looking through my “bag” of pictures to see how you’ve grown and while rummaging through my memories of you, I remembered all the times when you made us laugh or made us look inside ourselves and think a bit deeper ... All the times you cracked us up and all the times you wowed us with your “intelligence”, as you so astutely call it:

That time when we were in Toronto and you said I need to stop saying that I am fat and that I need to look around me to see  “people who look like balloons, and until I look like them, I am not fat ...”

That time when you told us that the American Niagara Falls are “a bit underwhelming, if you were to tell us the truth ...”

That time when you told us that “mamaliga” was evil and that you were afraid of it ... I guess something went crazy in your Romanian genetic code at some point to make you say that ... 

That time when you told us that the roseate spoonbills are pink because they feed on shrimp and crustaceans - way more than anyone else around you knew and way more than a 10 year old should know ...

That time when you told us that junk food is not a good thing, but it is, “however, delicious” ...

That time when you were wondering what Trump was doing, some time in 2021 and that you were sure he “was looking for a job, but no one was hiring ...”. That cracked you (and me) up! 

That time when you told your dad he “can never be a millionaire because he’s too old and already missed his opportunity ...”

I remember all the trips we ever took to see each other and all the visits we ever had - they were short glimpses of time, but they packed so much energy and love and gusto into each second. You made them count, sweet boy! 

When you came to visit me in The Rockies when you were just a year and a half old and chased the kitties around the house; or when you came to North Carolina and you dipped into the ocean for the first time in your life; or when we went to Mont Tremblant one summer during the one very rare hot day of the year in Canada and we went souvenir shopping and you got Windy - the stuffed elephant to add to your growing collection of ‘stuffed friends’; or when I visited you once and we went for a walk and you dropped your candy and said “it’s OK. I’ll leave it there for the ants.” 

And I can keep going. I am so lucky to have a front-row seat at this beautiful play that is your life. So lucky you are my nephew and so happy to love you and watch you grow, mature and turn into the beautiful person you’ll continue to become. 

You may be growing out of being a baby anymore, but in my eyes you’re always be a wide-eyed child, full of curiosity and ingenuity; full of life and surprises. I hope you never lose that, no matter how many years you add to your age. 

Thank you, sweet Kev, for sharing yourself so truthfully with all of us! You are a treat!  

Happiest of birthdays today, and love you to eternity and further beyond ...