Nicky, the Boy Who Would Not Grow Up
Christian O’Neill, © 2004
In some families, there is that one child. Not everyone would understand. Particular spans in age or family structures may have something to do with it. But for some families, there’s one child, blessed with a peculiar warmth, humor, strength and intuition, whose existence ties everyone else closer together, one child who is the mover and the standard for measurement of time and space and energy.
For us, that was Nicky. He was ten years my junior
and as they years passed, I grew to realize that he was more like a son to me
than a little brother. He was equal parts golden cherub and grinning imp,
innocent/ wise, manic/serene, dazzling/quiet, unassuming/unforgettable,
brilliant in all the most unconventional ways. Nick was more than glue for my
family; he was its beating, glowing heart, and he was my best friend.