Ben's 25th birthday. I can't see that number without gasping. Was I only 8 when I had him? No, actually, I was 23, heading fast toward 24. Nowadays I don't head fast toward much besides the bathroom and a great sale, but certainly not the next birthday.
Ah, at any rate, my heart was so full yesterday when I woke up thinking about him. I just really wanted to see him, hug him, spend time with him. (They'd had a party for him last weekend which was only "for young people," so the parents weren't on the list of invitees. Sniff, sniff. And we've come to agree--more or less agree--that it's too pricey to take the whole family --all 8--for birthday dinner since it's almost one a month.)
But deep in my heart, two days ago, I was about to break if I didn't see him. I was feeling so intensely about touching him, seeing his eyes, hearing his voice, being with him. Couldn't squelch it. It was like early March of '88 all over again.
So...
I called Ben yesterday morning at 8 a.m., hoping to catch him before he or my lovely daughter-in-law had packed his lunch. Well, what a blessing my phone call was (NOT) when I WOKE HIM UP on his birthday! Some mother I am. Sheez, I wanted to shrivel up into a ball. Instead I apologized and asked if he'd like to go out to lunch. He graciously (sleepily) agreed.
Yay! That put a "spring" in my step!
Daffodils and sunshine marked March 21, 1988. In my mind, as I've said before, the first day of spring will always been 3/21. Every year I get my first daffodil bloom on March 21st in the yard somewhere. It's as though God keeps saying to me personally, "Children are my reward; flowers are yours." Sure enough, I had ONE daffodil yesterday open its pretty yellow face to the sun.
I got dressed up, fixed my hair, makeup, jewelry, heels. The whole bit. Felt happy and like crying all at once. What is wrong with me? Might as well have been back on that delivery table, as mixed-up crazy hormonal as I was.
Wanted to take a picture to remember the moment, yet didn't take one so that we could live IN the moment. Besides, these men of mine aren't too keen on being photographed , especially in public. The self-controlled me said, "Okay, skip the camera." The nostalgic me is already regretting that decision.
We met at a Vietnamese restaurant that Paul has been to. Never fails, whether there are 12 or 312 things on the menu, Paul and I end up wanting to order the same thing. Guess what? So did Ben.
We sat and chatted about quite a variety of things. Ben is a good conversationalist. Listens well. Asked good questions. Has strong opinions, but doesn't force them on people.
I made a card for him and told him how very proud I am of him, for the man he's become. For how he takes care of his wife. He cares about the disenfranchised. He has helped rebuild a home in Baltimore with Habitat for Humanity, and will soon be getting involved with a group that ministers to people with AIDS, and is going to be part of the security team for an upcoming Youth for Christ rally.
He's the most politically active 25 year old I know. Don't be surprised if he runs for office someday. He's a born leader with strong convictions and beliefs. He doesn't go along with status quo if status quo is morally, ethically, or biblically wrong.
Well, I could go on, because he's my son and I love him to pieces. I never imagined, when he was born, how much love my heart could hold. Nor did I imagine the love could get any more intense than it was the first time I held him in my arms.
Now this young lady gets to hold him. (Picture taken May, 2012)
The nest may be getting empty, but the well of my heart keeps getting fuller.
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