Ninety-Three

 Ninety-three is  not just a number...

     It's the number of years (and counting) you've been given to   make your mark on this planet.
     It's the number of years you've shared your love with the lives you've touched.
     It's a fraction of what you've done without so we could have all of what we've dreamed of.
     It's the number of times you've forgiven, forgotten but never forsaken... and then some.

Ninety-three is not just a number...

     It's the number of times you've told us something important and we didn't listen but now we   remember because it's hard for you to say it.
     It's the  number of times you said yes and the same number of times you said no because
          something was not for our own good.
     It's the number of times we wished we said "I love you" and the number of times we're saying  it now
           before it's too late.

    It's the  number of times you said "It's the principle of the thing" and the same number we now say the
           very same thing.

      
Ninety-three is the number of times you told us "When my ship comes in" when we now realize we were
     aboard all along.

Ninety-three is not just a number...

That's why we are celebrating it... in a big way.

Happy Birthday Daddy.

Milestones

    A child's first year is a plethora of milestones, everything and anything you can think of. And so it goes as they grow up until we get caught up in the busyness of life that at times we stop noticing and paying attention to these milestones. Like the first time your firstgrader begs you not to kiss him in public because "there's thousands of people watching!" Or the first time you get  a teacher's note and it's not good news. Or the  last time your child calls you Mommy and addresses you as Mom.

     Now and then you come into a milestone that you know you will not miss. Like a child's First Communion. The year was 2005. I had taken Jared for his Kindergarten visit in the spring prior to starting school in the fall. Waiting for him inside the church, I saw the second graders practicing for their First Communion. And just like that, without knowing anybody in that class, I catch my breath in my throat, get choked-up and teary-eyed just thinking what it would be like when Jared makes his. Needless to say when the day came it was bittersweet. That milestone meant that he was growing up and  - too soon.

     Kyle's First Communion last Sunday, April 25, 2010 was no different and yet it was just as special - maybe even more so as he was my baby. In his crisp white button-down shirt, real tie (no clip-ons thank you very much) with his school colors and formal jacket he stated very proudly that he looked like a salesman. Watching him walk down the church aisle with his class, he looked like a little man about to partake in the  symbolic blood and body of Jesus for the first time. As he read his part in the prayers of the faithful, there was a 4 second pause before he read the cue for the congregation's response and I hold my breath twice as long, afraid he had forgotten what to say next. But he did remember and the people's response was as enthusiastic as it was relieved. At the recessional, each student was handed a carnation to give to their parents. Kyle did not like the one handed  to him and opted to take the next one which made the teachers smile.

     All these make me realize that he is indeed growing into his own person, making his own choices and going through things without me being always at his side. And while I look forward to the many more milestones in his future, I hang on to the moments in between.