That cold, hard beginning
Here I am again. Quicker for you as we have been blog absent for almost a year but The Pants turns eight today.
Eight amazing years of having the divine fortune to have this boy as my son.
And we are very fortunate.
Even after eight years have past in the blink of an eye I still remember his birth as though it were yesterday. But that cold, hard beginning has lead to peace and happiness. That's not to say it's always glorious, no, it is very tough and relentless but it is etched with utter pure love.
And so I am faced again with balloons and presents and cake for a son who is eight. A son who is eight and has never spoken one comprehensible word to me, or ran to me, or held me, or kissed me. But strangely with him I don't need all of that, his eight years represents fight and strength and presence. Look at him and you feel peace. Isn't that what we all need?