He's all grown up now and I could not be prouder of him. There's a relaxed,easy way about him... so much like his father. He's comfortable in his own skin. He is kind, and generous. He is loving and considerate. He's everything I ever dreamed my adult son would be and so much more. I wrote this just before his 18th birthday. Oh, this child, my child... I love you forever, I like you for always, as long as I'm living, my baby you'll be.
This child was clinging to my pant leg just yesterday, wasn't he? Today, I feel as if I want to cling to his.
This child was the one who crawled into bed with me every day for two weeks and read poems to me from his Shel Silverstein book, after I had a miscarriage and lost my way for a little while.
This child made his father spend $20.00... one dollar at a time, at the Great New York State Fair (he loved saying that:)) when he was eight years old, in order to win a little bendable purple and pink felt flower with a smiley face on it for his mommy. I still have that flower. After ten years, it still blooms perfectly.:)
This child stood quietly on a hill overlooking the neighborhood children playing because he was too shy to go down there, and then went on to become the treasurer of his high school ski club.
This child was small and had eyes that filled up his whole face but grew up to be muscular and strong with eyes that fill up his whole face.:)
This child stood side by side with his father and grandfather with tears streaming down their faces, holding his great grandfather's hand as he took his final breaths.
This child still wants his mom when he's sad, sick or feeling down.
This child loves camping and kayaking and fishing and music and snowboarding and video games and traveling, but he has always loved coming home...best of all.
This child is 3 months from his 18th birthday, and 4 months from leaving for college.
This child taught me the meaning of loving another human being more than my own life.
This child is the light of my life, the light in my eyes, and the feelings all over my face.
This child is my first born. He will always be the only one who carries that distinction. That title belongs to him, and him alone, and he has worn it well.