He is brave to a fault. Reckless, though he’s quick to apologize if he steps on anyone. He’s also kind, and when he laughs, it’s like the sun rising, warm and filled with life. Once, when he was five years old, I found him on the roof of our house. He’d taped paper to his arms that he’d cut out in the shape of wings. I managed to pull him back before he could jump. I demanded to know what he was doing, my heart in my throat. He looked up at me, a quizzical expression on his face, and said, ‘Daddy, I just wanted to fly like the birds. Why are you mad?’ I didn’t know how to tell him that I’d never been more scared in my life. So instead I just hugged him close and made him promise that he’d never do anything like that again. Two days later I found him on the roof once more. We put locks on the windows after that.
Carter is protective of those he considers his. No one touches his brothers and gets away with it. He’ll put himself between them and danger without regard for his own well-being. He takes the role of the oldest seriously. When Joe was born, he wanted to take him everywhere. When we found him trying to lift Joe from his crib, we asked him what he was doing. He told us that he wanted Joe to sleep in his bed. When we reminded him that babies need to be safe and that the crib was the best place for him, we thought that had resolved the matter. The next night we found Carter and Kelly in the crib with Joe, all three of them asleep, Joe between his brothers. We asked Carter the next morning why it was important for him. He said that he was the oldest, which meant Joe and Kelly needed him to keep them safe.
This is who Carter is. He will stand on a roof because he wants to be a bird. He will snap and snarl at anyone who looks at his brothers the wrong way. He’s funny (well I think he’s funny; Elizabeth doesn’t quite always see it that way). He’s smart too, smarter than people sometimes give him credit for. I’m sure all fathers think that of their children, but there’s an intelligence in him, an undying spark of life that I hope is never extinguished. He’s lovely, every piece and part of him. I often find myself watching him, wondering about what goes through his head. He’s not unknown to me, but there is a secret heart to him that not many get to see.
Which brings me to you. I don’t know who you are. I probably (hopefully) won’t have to find out for a long time. And not because of you. I know that whoever you are, if my son has chosen you, and you have chosen him back, you’ve seen through all the noise and bluster to that secret heart that beats thunderously in his chest. If he has let you in, if he’s dropped the façade of the cocky boy that he is, you are worthy, completely and fully. Never doubt that. The road ahead won’t always be easy. There will be the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. But so long as you remember that he is a gift, then I know you will see the light that burns within him. He loves so big that it takes my breath away. There is no one like him in all the world, and he needs to be treasured. I don’t know if he hears that enough. I try, as does his mother, but how can we even begin to bring words to life to describe all that he entails?
I hope you’ve figured that out because he needs to know. He carries the weight of everything on his shoulders, to his detriment. And I don’t want him to carry that burden alone.
Whoever you are, know this: love him, and you will never have to be alone again. You will know joy. You will know happiness. You’ll know what it means to be loved unconditionally. I know this because I know him. I know joy. I know happiness. I know what it’s like to struggle to breathe when his face lights up at the very sight of me.
He is one of my great loves. And if he is yours, then you know what I mean. Take his heart and hold it close. You will be rewarded far beyond anything you’ve ever known.
And when you’ve finished reading this, when you’ve taken in my words and absorbed them, come find me. I have more to tell you about him. So much more that I can’t put it all down here. Nuances would be lost, and I want you to hear it from me.
Who are you?
Someone special, I think.
I take that back.
I know you’re special. Because Carter Bennett thinks so too.
Yours, Thomas Bennett.
I opened my eyes.
My mother was smiling through her tears.
My own face was wet, and I did nothing to hide it.
Gavin was looking at me, a strange expression on his face.
“What?” I asked him.
He said, “He loved you.”
“Yeah.”
“A lot.”
“Yeah.”
He said, “Did you know that? Just how much?”
I started to nod but then stopped. “I don’t think I did.?
?
He looked back at my mother. She folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She left it on the desk as she wiped her eyes. “You funny man,” she whispered. “You funny, extraordinary man.” She tapped the envelope. “It’s true. All of it. Every word.”
“He saw me,” I whispered.
“Of course he did,” my mother said. “Always. Which brings me to my last gift. Gavin, do you still understand you have a choice?”
“Yes.”
She said, “When a wolf is born, their Alpha carves them a wolf of stone. It’s a gift. A sign. For a future. To one day be given as a sign of trust. Of love. Before Carter was born, Thomas fretted over it, convinced it would never be good enough. He started over and over, wanting it to be perfect. And it was, even if it was a bit clumsy. He got better at it for Joe and Kelly, but even though Carter’s was imperfect, it’s still to this day my favorite out of the three.”