It’s Thursday today.
Facebook is filled with “Throwback” photos, images from years or decades ago. I don’t usually pay much attention, but my mind is filled with you today… and you from 20 years ago.
20 years ago today was a Sunday.
I only remember because I remember missing church while we waited. We’d already been waiting for months… with great anticipation for the final weeks.
Waiting to meet you.
In what would become a pattern in your life, you made clear that I had very little say in how this would go. Two weeks past the due date and hours after the nurses said labor was progressing well… you decided to hang in just a little longer.
So we waited some more.
Right around noon, following just enough drama to make us appreciate your cry, there you were.
I remember your dad’s face – filled with wonder and fear and so very much love.
I remember your face, too.
I remember trying to see past the Yoda/old man wrinkles, wishing that your eyes would open
I remember finally seeing those eyes, thinking that maybe they did belong to an old Yoda-like soul
I remember holding you, how glad I was that you weren’t too tiny and fragile for a newbie like me,
I remember being terrified and proud, because I could feel even then, even exhausted and loopy as I was, you were wholly and completely your own person.
20 years and too many arguments, hugs, debates, apologies, tantrums, lectures, and slammed doors to count later, I am still terrified and proud.
Because you are still wholly and completely your own person.
Happy birthday, kiddo.