My Oldest Heart

My oldest heart turns 8 this month. Ever since I can remember, this age was the turning point from little kid to big kid. 7 was still young, but 8 - why 8 was getting ready to be a teenager!

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He's amazing, my son. His heart is kind and gentle. He loves to play war, his male protective instinct manifesting in so many ways. He would never hurt a kitten or lizard or little girl.

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He loves bugs. Real bugs. He declared when he was 4 that he wanted to be an Entomologist (bug scientist, for the unaware), and hasn't changed his mind since. He even has researched the top two Entomology schools in the nation. (We've made an effort not to sway him between UGA and Florida State - let him choose as he gets older.)

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He loves music. Husband is giving him basic guitar lessons, and he sings every week in choir. When he's sad, sometimes he'll sit on his bed and sing hymns to himself. Days of Elijah is his favorite song.

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He is empathetic - if I am sad, he wants to hug me and console me. If his brother gets hurt, he puts his arm around CW's shoulders and tries to make it better. God gave him a sweet, sensitive side that many never get to see.

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He cooks and does laundry. And still thinks it's fun. Helping around the house by doing "grown-up" tasks. He's a giver, who understands his fortune and wants to help other's misfortune. When he hears of a hurt or poor child, he wants to give of himself to help.

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He's not always gotten the easiest end of the stick, being my firstborn, and therefore subject to many bumbling choices. But he's always forgiven me, and stepped back up to life. This summer, he took being confined in a wheelchair better than most boys thrice his age would.

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He's amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better oldest son. I look forward to the day he's also my friend.

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~Lone Butterfly )i(