Just Not First

Benjamin is in first grade. He is seven.

Benjamin is our second born son, the twin brother of Anthony. He would be sure to tell you, if you brought it up, that being second born doesn’t make him younger than Anthony. They were both together before they were born and nobody knows if God created them at the same moment or one after the other, but either way, nobody knows who was who or who is older. And in Benjamin’s construct that doesn’t make him anything but “not first.”

But Benjamin doesn’t mind being “not first.” As a matter of fact, he’d rather not be. He likes that he has a twin brother and other brothers to absorb some of the attention.  Even when he and Anthony were barely toddlers, Anthony would sing and dance on the rug and Benjamin would sit on the couch and laugh and clap for him. He didn’t need to be in the limelight, he was happy to cheer on the kid who clearly needed an audience. It’s his niche. Keep those nasty spotlights off me, please, I’m trying to encourage someone here.

Benjamin always wants to do the right thing. He’s careful and precise. Doesn’t want to make a sloppy mistake, so he takes time and great pains to do it correctly.He’s the kind of kid who is so deliberate he never ever gets sticky stuff on his fingers. Never carelessly knocks over your tower or messes with your toys because he know how maddening that can be. Cries if he can’t make his hands create the picture the way his head sees it. Laments his imperfections, but can so easily celebrate the successes of others. Worries about failure, but can’t conceive of it in anyone else. He’s a gentle boy who needs warm hugs, quiet affirmations, and a strong family who believes in him. Otherwise, he could miss how special he is himself.

Sometimes I wonder if there are any other young boys who have within them such old,  sentimental souls. He loves the family items in our home–our music boxes and old pictures and other nostalgia. Of all my children, he is the one who will come to me and request that I take certain items up to his “box” in the attic  (a Rubbermaid tub with collected items for each boy.) A shirt he loved and outgrew, his first baseball with a ripped cover, a painting he made at school that won an award. He “remembers when,” and he’s only seven. Can’t imagine what that will look like on him in the years to come.

Oh wait a minute, yes I can. It’s going to look just like Orlando. Because if you don’t know Orlando, suffice it to say I just described him here on this page. Benjamin is Orlando, again. Such similar creatures. Together, they are the embodiment of the phrase “The fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

So for this boy, the move will be the toughest–at least initially. Change comes hard and the “warming up” will take the longest for him. But when it sticks, and it will, Nebraska will be his homeland, too. The land of his Grandma and Grandpa whom he dearly loves. The land of his father whom he so closely resembles. A land he will  learn to love and will probably always long for when he is grown.

Not first in this either, is he?