Happy First Birthday, Tre: A Letter to My Second Son About Being Enough
I don’t know what being a second child is like. But I do know it bares the heavy burden of comparison. So, forgive me, Tre, for even beginning with a parallel thought.
When Honor was born with a lung mass and had his surgery and had Kawasaki, people would say things like, “God must have something good for him because he’s so strong and has been through so much!“
To imply, for you, dear Tre, that because you were born without complications and have not encountered rare disease, you’re less favored. To imply, for you, dear Tre, that you’re simply—normal.
Dear Tre, you are anything but normal. You are smart, resilient, attentive, determined, meticulous, silly, affectionate, and tough. You want what you want and you do what you want. You enjoy routine. You dance with your soul. Your laugh fills a room and ‘tude deserves television. You go at your own pace. You’re only 1.
Dear Tre, God has something good for you because you’re His.
Dear Tre, you have helped me to understand more deeply what it’s like to be His. To be loved even when all you can do is eat and sleep, to be seen because you’re alive, not because you’re impressive, to be cared for with specificity, to know there’s great value in each breath and more hope because of it.
Dear Tre, you are my exceedingly and abundantly. You’re more of God’s grace extended to me, your gift of life uncovers my limits, flaws, and weaknesses. You’ve given me less time and more treasure, less space and more room, more stress and much more significance.
I anticipate God using you to teach me even more. I anticipate bright and blessed feelings that come with your growth, maturity, and wisdom. You don’t just have something good waiting for you, you ARE something good.
As number 2, I look forward to all the ways you’ll be number 1. Cause remember what we say around here Tre, “If you ain’t first, you’re last!” LOL JK (kinda).
Keep moving to your own beat, keep following mommy’s lead of teaching people exactly how to pronounce your name (UH-TRAY-ES), and keep smiling, laughing, and moving! You are endlessly loved!
