My son L is one of the three sweetest gifts I have ever received. Sure he is a rooster and wakes at the crack of dawn every day of his life since birth. Even though he awakes before any person on Earth should be upright and have to function, he does so with a smile. He never wakes up grumpy of cranky. He finds beauty in the mundane telling me "how beautiful the sky looks" at age 3.
L is sweet to everyone, a love. He gets very worried when I am sad or upset. He is worried that he was the one to disappoint me. He is the most sensitive of all my children. He will cry over a mistake he made on a drawing, or gets frustrated with himself if he doesn't remember how much a dime is worth or can't read a word. We try and be patient we tell him that everyone makes mistakes. Nobody is perfect.
Last Christmas we gave the kids each $5 to buy the other and E and I a gift at the holiday gift sale at school. Christmas morning he presented me and his twin sister R, with a box. He picked out a single red rose for R, something he knew she would like (and she did). For me he picked out a gold ring with a blue stone set in the middle. "Because blue is your favorite color" he told me. I cried. This sweet son of mine picked out such a lovely gift for me and his sister.
When we went back to NJ for my grandfather's funeral, he promised he would write one of my cousins, that they would become pen pals. Today he wrote his first letter to his cousin, a little note thanking him for writing and that he loved him. On the back of his letter he wrote something I have to remember more often, something I vow to remember in the sunlight but sometimes in the darkness I forget. He wrote: Life is good.