Timir, the son I had at 12, my friend - no relationship doesn't exists between us. I remember holding the tiny, petite, little baby boy in my hands for the first time when he was just a couple of hours old. Tears welled up in my eyes even at an age when I didn't know what motherhood meant. I can never thank my sister enough for bringing Timir into my life. I remember his first cry, his first smile, the way I used to watch him for any sign of new expression, making him learn how to walk, step by step, making him mischievous, feeding him, running behind him to scare him.... This is when you were just a toddler! I used to take you out as a trophy and take immense pride in it. Your first birthday party was more for me and my friends than for you :-)
As time went by, you started growing up. I remember one day you came home with your head bleeding, and there was no one home. You were hardly 4 and I was 16. I still get goosebumps thinking about how I took you to the doctor, and all the way I kept praying that he wouldn't ask me to get you stitches. And than making you do homework, you used to complaint everyone that I never smile at you and never talk with you lovingly when it came to homework and my chest used to get puffed up with pride of being an elder sibling to at least someone when I had two of them dancing on my head every moment LOL.
And as you turn 18 today, I wish I could wrap you up in a super-strong bubble wrap and keep you safe as you navigate through your own life. But, well, I would rather prefer that you run, you fall, you cry, you learn, you get up again, you keep trying till you finally win. I pray that you be given all sorts of experiences that would make you richer by the wealth of knowledge.
Many Happy Returns, My Darling Timir!
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