This past week, as on other nights, I had the moment to reflect on my wonderful brood of boys. The last of the Muirhead boy birthdays past this week (excepting myself), with Noah turning one on Friday. The last few nights I’ve been able to hold Noah until he fell asleep in my arms and peacefully observe his gentle baby breaths. As I enjoyed him, it conjured up other nights with other sweet breaths of my little children. I have a very sweet set of boys, still full of affection. My heart stirs each time Joshua insists on a hug and a kiss before I leave for the door. My reentry nearly always starts with the running of Brigs into my arms, his eyes abright with expression and his valiant smile in tow. Dylan always brings news of his latest accomplishments, and though towering over his brothers, still a boy, and still just as tender, as we say goodnight. I never knew that little lips and arms could have such a big impact, until I had little boys. Perhaps that sounds strange in our day, or in our culture, but nonetheless it is altogether beautiful in its righteous form, in their pure offering of loving affection. I write this for a future day, so my sons may read of my great love for them and what for me is precious and dear. Dylan also had his cast “sheared” this week and bears the honour of the first Muirhead boy (in our family) to wear a cast. In true form Dylan handled his temporary accessory with mature acceptance. I don’t recall one complaint while he had it on, or even one refusal to take on a task, however awkward it might have been. Of him I am so ever proud. Dylan had a priesthood preview event this month to prepare him for receipt of priesthood power and responsibility. We look upon Dylan as the trailblazer in our home for his younger brothers and their behaviour proves this role.
There are many traits Daria and I would hope to have in our home among our members; as I remember moments both recent and foregone, I am certain that tenderness abounds. May it always be so.
