Just before the last day of this month slips into the second half of the year, I want to tell you about my second son, who celebrated his 5th birthday this May.
Iñigo loves me the most. I'm sure his two brothers, Vito and Piero, will contest that but I know in my mama's heart that my second boy is the one who feels most tender towards me. That makes me feel a lot guilty, to be honest, because of all my boys, he's the one I don't really get to focus on. His older brother, by virtue of being the first to experience everything, and his younger brother who is a baby, get all of my time and attention. Iñigo doesn't seem to mind. Or maybe he's learned not to mind and has taught himself to be content with whatever's left of me.
I know this. I'm not unaware of the little heartbreaks my sweet Iñigo goes through every day, and I try to make up by asking him to help me with the chores or just sit by me while I work. And he's happy with the morsels of my affection. He's thrilled just to be beside me. He doesn't demand for me to listen to his stories like Vito does. He doesn't demand for everything like Piero does. He just sits there beside me, happy.
"I just want to hold your arm, Mama."
"I need to write, Iñigo, so you'll have to let go."
"Okay, Mama. I'll sit here, Mama. Is that okay?"
And of course it's okay but I feel bad I couldn't even give him my arm.
All of his five years, he's the sweet and silly one. He was the quiet baby, so quiet we forgot he's there sometimes because Vito was always a huge presence and Piero refuses to be ignored. So Iñigo learned to shine in other ways. He's the most gifted when it comes to art. He's also the only one who can cook. He's the one with the most hilarious quips. And he always wears red. He must've instinctively realized that red draws so much attention.
Tonight, as we cuddled in his bed with the Spider-Man sheets (he now wants Iron Man), he talked about his birthday because I told him it's the end of May so we'll finally take down all the party decorations. He asked why being 5 means going to a big school when he doesn't feel so big. He was in a chatty mood and then he said, "Mama, are you already sleeping?"
"I'm falling asleep, baby," I replied. "I had a long day and tomorrow I have to go to work early."
"Okay, Mama, you sleep na. Good night, Mama. I love you. I'll sleep beside Vito so you can sleep better." And before I can protest, he crawled over to Vito's bed and was asleep in minutes.
And I woke up because I didn't want him to go and that I liked his chattiness even though it made me drowsy. But that's Iñigo, my sensitive boy, the tender-hearted one, and the one who loves me most.
Dearest Iñigo, thank you for loving me and your Papa and your brothers so much. Thank you for always buying stuff for your brothers even though they don't do the same for you. I don't know who taught you to be so generous with your life and why you are so gentle and kind. While your Papa and I are good parents, we can't take credit for the purity of your soul and the hugeness of your heart.
May you always have this kindness and generosity. May you always be full of contentment even as I wish you better and grander things, all of which such a good boy like you deserve. I don't know what I did to deserve you but I count you as one of my biggest blessings, the one who taught me to be a more mindful, more compassionate mother, all because you love me so so unconditionally. I am a better mama to you and your brothers because you taught me to be generous and kind.
God bless you, my dearest sweetheart. You will always be my darling boy, the one I look on oh so fondly. Happiest of birthdays to you and for many more years to come. We love you so very much!
