You’ve always had the most beautiful eyes Grey — juniper green with a blue rim and orange flecks. To this day I get lost in them. Of course, being nine now, you’re not nearly as receptive to my snuggles and compliments, and still, I refuse to stop chasing you around for a hug; telling you how handsome you are, how much I love you. You squirm and fight to get out of my clutches, but through your resistance, I can see your wry smile letting me know the feelings are mutual. My sweet Grey, forever the chubby, blonde, green-eyed Michelin-rolled baby who made our family whole — today is your 9th birthday!
Another year older but much remains the same. For starters, you still LOVE corn dogs, strawberries and chocolate milk. Green is your favorite color with blue coming in a close second, and you prefer baths over showers, oranges over apples, and anything chocolate over vanilla. New obsessions include Zion Williamson, a girl named Zoë, and Gatorade by the truckload. You’ve declared to one day be the proud owner of a Siberian husky “just like Nila”, the dog we see every morning our our way to school, and plan to live in Miami so you can go to the beach every day: “You can come visit me Mom. I’ll have an extra room for you.”
Our “Joy Boy” whose playful spirit, kindness and gratitude has not wavered. “Grey is well-liked and his friendships are so important to him,” your teacher has said. “He’s affectionate and loving with his closest ones.” I can only imagine what it must be like to have you as a friend Grey!
The biggest milestone this year was the removal of your braces! It’s been almost two years ago since the dawn of your orthodontia — when you first got a palate expander and were terrified of the dentist. Remember when you had to be given nitrous oxide for a routine cleaning? No so anymore. Now you’re cool as a cucumber in that chair, and when your braces came off, Oh my! — I mean, just look at those teeth! Now, like your eyes, I’ll ask to see your smile, and while you won’t come out and admit it, I can tell you feel really good about how you look.
You’re also feeling pretty confident about your basketball skills with dreams of making it to the NBA. “But if that doesn’t happen, my second choice is to be a cop. Not the kind that arrests people, but a court officer because it’s safer.”
You must be getting good at your hoop game because even Cash is doling out compliments, shocking both Dad and me. “Good job Grey!,” he shouted, after you recently made four shots in a row; and when I asked him if he preferred to practice alone with Dad he said, “No, I like having Grey play too. He’s actually getting pretty good … and, anyways, he’s better at basketball than most of my friends.”
The few times I’ve gone with you to the court, witnessing you encourage one another when competing against Dad, is absolutely stirring. Like when you got the rebound, dribbled down the full court, and made a layup. Cash wanted you to pass him the ball, but you went for it, and neither Cash nor Dad could believe their eyes; they just started laughing and cheering! “Grey’s got heart, that’s for sure,” Dad said. “He doesn’t care — he just goes for it.” I’d ask you about it later, whether you were excited, and you just shrugged and smiled. “I mean, why wouldn’t I make the shot?”
Touché Grey, touché.
I often wonder if one day you and Cash will play the way Dad and Uncle Corey did. Growing up as brothers — playing together since they were small — they always knew where the other one was on the court. “The Davis brothers” — notorious for their street style and “no-look” pass. Who’s to say you guys won’t be the “Davis brothers redux”?
On another note, I started hand painting denim jackets recently, and in turn, sparked your desire to create one of your own: “It’s going to say ‘Gamer’ on the back!” But it wasn’t long before you came to me with a crumpled up piece of paper. “Forget it Mom — I don’t like my designs. Yours look so much better.” I tried to encourage you to continue, but you were already on to the next thing.
It was then I decided to make you a custom ‘‘Gamer’’ jacket for your birthday, as bold and vibrant as you. After putting some retro Nintendo pins on the front — the final touch — I could barely contain my excitement. I think it might be my best work because of the love put into it. “I’ve got an extra special surprise for you!” I’d say once in awhile, until finally your birthday arrived.
“Omigosh — you made that?” you shrieked, grabbing the jacket to try on. Standing in front of the mirror with eyes widened and teeming with gratitude, you turned back to look in my direction. “It’s so cool Mom — thank you so much!” you said, flashing me that million dollar smile.
Happy birthday Grey Grey!
I love you.
Always and forever,
Mom