September 22, 2014

He was born on September 22, 1987. I was on bed rest for a couple of months before that. They put me in the hospital a few days before he arrived. The night before I was to be induced, there was something a little different about the way I felt. It was supper time. I debated whether or not to mention anything about how I was feeling. I told the nurse, missed out on supper, and delivered my boy sometime around 9:30 that night.

He was a chunky little baby and he was a clinger. He would wrap my hair around his fingers and hold on tightly. We were tight. He grew into a serious, tall and thin man with the prettiest hands and the longest fingers (and toes).

He had a tender heart and a sensitive nature. There were many times when I could have pinched his little/big head off. He tried my patience and he taught me so very much about love in the too-short time that he was here with me/us.

He would have been 27 years old today.

How I wish I could hug him once more, and hear him say "Mama" in the way that he did. I can still almost hear his voice in my head.