Over the past 20 years I have watched my brother Maurice stay a baby while growing into a man.
Due to a developmental disorder Maurice has yet to gain exact control over his movements meaning he doesn't hold up his own head or walk. Moreover, while he certainly exercises his vocal chords, at 20 years old he doesn't talk. His long hairy legs are those of a man, but instead of walking or running he kicks and flails them while smiling and yawning just as he did as a baby.
How wonderfully ironic is it then, that I have chosen to make my life about movement when his is so limited?!
I never set out on this path with that in mind, but it seems like somehow God decided that I was going move big enough for the both of us.
And we take it for granted everyday that we can say hello and wave our hand; that we can walk up stairs, run across the street, hop up fast, drag our feet slow; that we can dance when we feel the music; that we can wiggle each toe and each finger; and articulate each vertebrae in our spine.
So thank you Maurice, for in your 20 years of life you remind me that movement is a precious gift. And the best way to honor you on this birthday and those to come is to always move - big, strong, excitedly, happily.