Thursday, November 13, 2008

and he turns 21!

I was 20 years old. It was fall. The world was going to sleep; I was waiting for new life. A season out of season.

The leaves turned color, the smell of snow fell on the air, I waited....and ached to see his little face.

On this morning, I woke up early, 5 am early, and it was snowing. I was amazed with the snow, it was the most beautiful snow I had ever seen. It caused me to want to cook....

so I began cooking meals for a week...then two weeks...and then there were enough homemade meals from scratch in my frige to feed the entire third world...

so I looked at the snow...and it caused me to want to clean. so I cleaned the house from the top to the bottom...and every drawer...and every closet...and every tea cup.

and looked out at the snow.

which caused me to call everyone I know to say, "HAPPY FIRST SNOWY DAY". it didn't often snow this early in November. So people thought I was going to go into labor.

but I didn't think I would because I was already three weeks late, and this child was doing "his own thing" already. I doubted that he would ever come.

that night, after dinner,3 weeks late, standing by the phone, when GUSH, the waters a damn, a flood on my kitchen floor.

I hollered, "Mike, I broke my waters..."

nonplussed, the man ignored me...see in my last month; every time I sneezed, every time the baby moved...I thought my waters broke, but it was a bladder issue.

Now I knew the real I called him to come and see.

Grabbing every towel that we owned, we mopped up the mess and called the doctor.

24 hours and some later; I gave birth to a 9 pound 12 oz whopper boy that I named Jason.

November 14, 1987.

and 21 years later I still havent' stopped loving him with all that I am.

I have so much to say and no words to tell it...

I only hope that whatever I was supposed to pour into the child is in there..enough to get him into manhood...enough that he can start walking....without leaving his mama behind.

Happy birtday'll always be my dinkydoo.


Anonymous said...

What a great story. You either have a small house and eat very little, or you are one amazing chief cook and bottle washer.

It snowed the morning Aryn was born as well. Of course, we were in Minnesota, where that's not really all that uncommon.

Wanna hear a joke?

Two dudes are talking about their favorite outdoor sports. One guys says he loves surfing and volleyball on the beach and golf. The other guy, from Minnesota, says he like's ice fishing and hockey and skiing. The first dude says, "All those are winter sports. What do you do in the summer?" And the guy from Minnesota says, "Oh! On that day we have a picnic."

Yep, gotta love the Nort'land.

Have a super 21st!

shaun said...

I have a 21 year old too. 87 was a good year I guess.
Makes me sad though because mine is still trying to find his way and has really messed up his life, but I am hopeful that he will be able to get to where he needs to be..
Hey there are lots of happy memories too.