Baby’s Birthday

Dear Luke,

Seventeen years ago today you entered this world. Finally! You were three days late. The longest three days of my life, but I digress. I do remember that day well…still. Attila the Hun was my nurse. She was not a fan of mine, nor I of her, but alas, we forged a bond of sorts, and worked together to get you here.

I had a special appreciation for your birth and your life. I knew you were the last baby I would ever carry for nine long, incredibly uncomfortable months. I cherished the moments.

I must admit, oh child of mine, that out of the three kids I have, you were the one that worried me most. Not so much the first two years. You were compliant and easy in a lot of ways.

When you were two and we played a game together is when I started to get a bit alarmed.

I started the little game by showing you how. I did this:” Give me five (holding hand out). On the side. In the hole. Too slow” (pulling hand away). I then asked you if you wanted to do it. You nodded your head yes.

You did this: “Give me five (holding hand out). On the side. In the hole. Too late” (as you pulled your hand away). I said, “No Luke, it goes Give me five. On the side. In the hole. Too slow“. And you replied. “I say too late”.

It was the Luke Show for several years after that. It didn’t matter what was going on, you had your own ideas on how to play the game.

And that very thing Luke, is what makes you the young man you are today. You are wise beyond your years, and you really always have been. You know what you believe and you stick to it. You are kind, considerate and very giving.

You have been gifted with talents from God, and you show your gratitude by using the gifts in ways that are pleasing to Him.

I’m not worried anymore.

I am proud of the man that you are becoming.

I enjoy the time I spend with you.

I don’t take it for granted, for I know it is but a short time that we have left, you living here with us.

It went so quickly, as it always does, and will continue to do so, I am sure.

I know they say the youngest child tends to get by with more; is spoiled, if you will. And that may hold some truth. But youngest children also have to carry the burden of being the last…

My life is richer and fuller because I am your mother.

Our family is blessed to have you as a part.

The world is a better place.

And you play bass like nobody’s business!

Happy Birthday, Luke, my youngest and holder of the title Last.

I am an equal opportunity parent. Read about the birthdays of my daughter here and my oldest son here My Out of Body Experience.