When I was a kid I thought my birthday was a day just for me. Every February 13th of my childhood was spent knowing that on that day the world changed forever because I entered it. I knew this was a very big deal because I got to choose what the whole family ate for dinner that day, and have whatever kind of cake I wanted, too. (Always lasagna, and always chocolate cake.)
If I ever saw my mother’s eyes glistening as she sang “Happy Birthday” to me, I probably thought she was just so darn happy seeing me so happy. (Kids are delightfully egocentric, aren’t they?)
Now, of course, I’m a mother myself, so I know what a child’s birthday really means. I know that the underlying purpose of the cake and candles and presents and all the birthday hoopla is to allow the parents to celebrate, too. Because really, it’s their day too. It’s the day their world changed forever, and they actually played a much more active role in that occurrence than the one whose name is on the cake.
I’m not trying to metaphorically deflate Kostyn’s birthday balloons. Yesterday was definitely his big day, celebrated with his very first Happy Meal for lunch (he only ate the fries), hot dogs and baked beans for dinner (two of his favorite foods), and a brand-new sandbox for him to play in. He’s only 2, so he really didn’t understand the streamers and balloons in the dining room, or why his cousins were singing to him over the phone, or even what it means when someone asks “How old are you now?” and he says, “OK, two!”
But Chris and I understand the question, and the answer. We feel the blur of all that has changed in our lives in the last 730 days. We know what life was like before Kostyn, and how it’s been immeasurably better after his arrival. We see the baby becoming a boy before our eyes, at once helpless to stop such a tragedy and thankful to witness such a miracle.
He is pure light, that little guy, and I love him with all my heart. Yesterday I celebrated his existence today and his arrival on June 2, 2007, with humility, thankfulness, overwhelming joy and pride. Because two years ago I had a fairly large part in giving the world this:
You’re welcome. :)
1 comment:
My eyes were glistening, too!
-Lyn
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