Tomorrow is my eldest child's 37th birthday. Hard to believe. By slightly less than one month, I was only 20 years old when our first child, Matthew, was born. It was a time when fathers routinely were not welcomed in delivery rooms, and my husband was ushered out just before his first-born son appeared. He was permitted to watch through the window; he didn't. I think he went out for a smoke. After a long night of painful labor, he had seen enough of me and a baby trying to be born.
Matthew has been a singularly defining presence in my life. He has taught me patience, tenacity, tolerance, belief, perseverance, hope, and faith. He has taught me to say "yes" to whatever life serves up.
Tomorrow, he, his housemates, and his "staff" (..someone in our family really does have "staff!") will gather around this autumnal table for lasagna, garlic bread, salad, and cheesecake (his dinner of choice) to celebrate his life, a life that has defied many who said he would never lead it the way he lives it--independent (as much as he is able), productive, out-in-the-community, and happy.
Happy Birthday to you, my dear son. I too celebrate your life.
I wish we could be there too!!!
ReplyDeleteI found you!
ReplyDeleteIt's a beautiful post. Must go read more. Darn it, where is that box of tissues?
Happy Birthday Celebration to all of you.
To the blogging Campbells:
ReplyDeleteI've been to Nana's, the Studio, and Stardust.
Thank you for sharing your talents, the photos, the colors, the fabrics, the thoughts behind the words, all woven skillfully into stories.
It's time to call it a night. My sleep will be sweet with mulling over your musings!