l u t h e r

i don't want to forget his knock-knock jokes or the puns he's gathered about elephants from that one book. i don't want to forget his silly stories about what the animals around the farm have done which make him laugh and laugh. i don't want to forget his laughter either, the random giggles and little shrieks that come when something is just too funny. a lot of things are too funny according to this guy. 

i don't want to forget the way he remembers. these days, it's mostly facts about animals that he's memorized. he never hesitates to share what he's learned, which is generally quite a lot because this is a kid who keeps atlases and encyclopedias next to his mattress to read before bed.  he's clever too, inventive, imaginative. his lego creations are meant to fly, shoot and transform; his ideas don't come from step-by-step books but from within. i don't want to forget his motivation to make.

i don't want to forget his silly personality, his innocence, his tenderness. i don't want to forget his curly hair that gets only curlier this time of the year, or his eyes that never cease to be so blue. his grin is wide and joyous, his hugs strong and readily given. i don't want to forget the sweetie he is. 

luther is nine. i don't want to forget this time.