Birth Day Memories

Thirty six years ago, at approximately 9:30 AM on Thursday, March 9th, 1972 I had just given birth to a 9 pound baby boy. It was a quick labor, only about six hours, but a tough delivery. He was a big baby and after a spinal I had no feeling from the waist down, so that made my efforts almost futile. But into the world he came with ten fingers and ten toes and a head of thick, long, black, wild hair. I was 16, naive and ill prepared to be a mom, but there I was. The following Sunday they let me leave the hospital with a baby in my arms.

As the years passed my son grew into a fine young man despite circumstances and my irresponsible ways. He progressed through school admirably and at age fifteen began working evenings and summers. Determined to go to college despite our inability to finance schooling, he earned a half tuition scholarship in his senior year of high school. Guy graduated high school with awards, honors and that scholarship, and with the help of grants and loans he was able to pursue his college education. Through his college years Guy worked to support himself and seldom asked for help of any kind. The day of Guys college graduation his first career employment was confirmed. He was on his way.

I often think back to the day Guy left home for college and how I found myself sitting at the top of the stairway in this very house, near his bedroom door, crying. I knew he would never be coming home again for good, and I missed him already and my heart was broken despite my hopes for his dreams. I was frightened for him…my boy had gone off to the big city and no one would “be there” for him. He was really on his own.

My son grew up though turmoil and hard times, determined, brave and focused on his goals. No one has ever made me as proud of their accomplishments as my son. Now as a dad to three beautiful boys, he has his priorities in the proper order again.

I wish things had been different and I had given more of myself as he was growing up. But I can’t go back and change that, I can only move forward...and I think we both have. He always tells me, “We grew up together, Mom” and he is right, even though I think he really grew up first. In the process I have learned a lot. Most of all, my children and grandchildren have taught me more about unconditional love than I could have ever known otherwise. They are the greatest blessing in my life, one I hope I never, ever take for granted.