This boy. He has my heart. The caboose in our family train, we've had a lot of one on one time together. I'll always remember and be grateful for the time I had homeschooling him. He was my sidekick, or I was his. I was never quite sure.
I'm grateful for his easygoing good humor. He doesn't crave the spotlight, in fact he hoped he wouldn't get too big of a role in his school musical (and then he was happy when he was cast as Stagehand # 3). He is good at making me laugh. It isn't one of his life's ambitions (like certain unnamed older brothers), but occasionally he just cracks me up.
I'm grateful for his helpfulness. Again, without fanfare, he just quietly helps. When I pick him up from school and we pull into the garage, he always asks, "Are there groceries?" because he's ready to carry anything in that I need. He tightens the kitchen chairs when he thinks they need it and he's always willing to offer help. He's a wizard with an Allen wrench.
I'm grateful he's his own quirky self. When he was a little boy at a scout talent show, he did this:
He gave me a thumbs up mid playing the piano. It's such a Mark thing to do.
Moving to a new state and leaving behind his posse of friends was harder for Mark than any of us. He's had a tough couple of years. I'm grateful that he manages to be his sunny self despite the hard things that have happened to him. He harbors no ill will and he stoically accepts his circumstances.
I'm grateful he's my boy.