{Editor's Note: This blog post was never completed or published, as it should have been. I deeply regret the lapse. Posting now as-is, and hoping the next newsletter makes up for it.}
On a recent Friday night, Holden was getting ready to go to a sleepover at a friend's house. "Do you have Hippo?" I asked.
"I'm not bringing him," Holden replied.
Riley and I stared at each other, mouths open. I was feeling surprised at Holden's big, bold move away from childhood... but Riley was feeling something different. Sadness. And fear. And a whole lot of concern.
As we headed to the car, Riley started to cry - real tears and pouty lip. He said he was worried Holden was going to change his mind in the middle of the night, and he didn't want him to miss Hippo. The crying carried on. And on. Finally, I sent him upstairs to get Hippo. He ran past Holden, who could only roll his eyes when Riley returned the floppy friend and insisted Holden put it in his bag.
That's the thing about Riley. That's always the thing about Riley. His heart, his sensitivity, his concern and his love know no bounds.
He had a great 4th grade year with solid grades and some exceptional scores on the state testing. He stuck with soccer through the spring, continuing to improve his skills and focus. After many sessions of focusing on kicking in swimming, he advanced this summer to freestyle strokes and quickly caught on. We're gearing up for another busy school year of Hebrew school and soccer, and hoping we can squeeze some art lessons in for Riley, too, as he's very interested in art, but lacks the techniques and inspiration to create.
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