Master Luke is seven. Some days it feels like 77, ha!
What a life it has been with him. Today, he gets his birthday letter. This one’s for you, big man.
Boy. You are full of energy. You’re opinionated and gregarious. Funny and smart. Wicked fast and full of adventure. You know no fear. Well, except at bedtime when you come out and tell us you’re scared because there’s monsters in your room. It’s usually an excuse for more hugs, a little more mom and dad time and a glass of water.
I’m okay with that. It’s a phase that won’t last forever.
You started first grade this year and are loving reading. You love it almost as much as watching Mater videos and old episodes of Chopped on Netflix. When we pass by a sign on the road, you have one million questions. Sometimes I just drive faster. #billboardsthesedays
Without a doubt, every kid in your class is at least a head taller than you. At first it really bothered me, you know. It was this huge physical reminder of how rough your start really was. We get comments all the time about how little you are and, “oh, is he in pre-k?” Now, we just smile. You are here with us and the size no longer matters. God doesn’t make too many 30-pound first graders as fiercely awesome as you. Never forget that.
You’ll give most foods a fair shake, but we generally steer clear of mushrooms and chicken. Some things just weren’t meant to be Luke favorites. However, I do buy stock in bananas, strawberry Cheerios, mashed potatoes, queso, tacos and steak – all your favorite things. You make a Texas mama proud.
A perfect day for you is spent playing with cars, squeezing in a game of Dude Perfect on the iPad, drawing with chalk on the driveway and chasing your siblings in the backyard. Oh, and let’s not forget how much you like ice cream.
Big events with lots of noise require some extra effort on our part. It is the gift of prematurity that will be with you for a long time to come. What I’ve come to love about that part of you, is that you’re quick to crawl in my lap and ask for a hug. Quick to jump in my arms to feel secure. Quick to grab my hand for reassurance. I love that you still see your dad and I as superheroes. We feel the same about you, buddy.
You have this old man wisdom about you and I see it often. Your mind works in different ways than the rest of the world. You’ve lived a life not many could endure. But you did.
Amazingly, we’ve whittled down the specialist list to one whole hand – neurosurgery, nephrology, orthopedics, physical medicine and orthotics. I think those five may be lifers, but to go from 12 specialists to 5 sounds pretty good to me. It’s fun to send the rest of them Christmas cards instead of bill payments!
Luke, God has big plans for you. Isn’t it going to be fun to watch them come to fruition?
Let’s go make year number seven your best yet.