Quintus turned 14 yesterday. FOURTEEN! Wasn’t he just a little redhead boy, too scared to go to Grade R?
When they say time flies, boet, they mean time flies. I have always said that I treasure every moment with my kids and I do. Still, somehow, time slips through your fingers.
I clearly remember the day he was born. How I resigned that same day because the people from work wouldn’t stop calling me.
I remember his first birthday. Him and his cousin having cake together, yet he hardly got his face dirty.
His second birthday ended with him being admitted in hospital with the rota virus. We spent the next week there.
So I can go on, with every birthday feeling like just last week.
I sat there yesterday as he had breakfast with his friends and it hit me that in just four years time he will be 18. He will a couple of months away from going to ‘varsity. Four years. That is nothing.
Happy birthday Quintus.
I hope you take time to capture memories. Even if you don’t have your camera with you. Capture it in your mind. Live the moment.
I love you endlessly. I am proud to call you my son.
You care so deeply and you aren’t scared to show that. You are protective of your brothers even though some days they work on your nerves.
You are the best teenager I know. You are balanced, with loving your rugby, doing well at school and your passion for music.
Some days I look at you and wonder why I couldn’t have been that self-confident as a teenager.
You amaze me.
Thank you for the hugs, kisses and coffee when I don’t expect it. Thank you for telling me you miss me.
Soos die son