This isn’t necessarily their story, but they are certainly the supporting cast, so it would be wrong not to mention them, though as growing kids I’m mindful of protecting their privacy to a degree.
Nathaniel, the first born, the child who looks like me but has his father’s character: smart, stubborn, scientifically minded, and with unique quirks like his dad had about even numbers. The gamer, the mathematician, the one-time architect of Minecraft masterpieces, the now often unmotivated teen. The one who seems like he might not care, but can astound with his depth and thoughtfulness, even though he might think he has that hidden.
Abigail, the girl in the middle of a brother sandwich, the sensitive, compassionate, nurturing sister. The baker, dancer, artist, reader, wordsmith, and child who will offer to help without being asked. The one who claims to “hyperfixate” to justify throwing herself into art or fashion or musical theatre and then find a new thing she’s all about. The soft one with a centre of steel.
Benjamin, the baby who isn’t a baby anymore but would like you to know he’s the baby, even though he also wants to keep up with the others and thinks being the youngest sucks while manipulating the heck out of his family position. The consummate third child who pre-bereavement always demonstrated quick wit, full-on cheekiness, social confidence and a happiness to march to the beat of his own drum, but who has walked his journey since his dad’s death hand in hand with an anxiety that would shrink his life if we let it, which we don’t. The one who makes friends for life and is loyal to the core, and will never knowingly turn down a hug.
They lost their dad when they were 10, 8 and 5 respectively.
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