Twenty-two years ago, just after midnight, I felt the first contraction. Eight and a half hours later, some of them pretty scary, our first child was born. He broke my tailbone that day, and it was painful, but the joy of seeing that beautiful boy and hearing his strong and healthy cry far outweighed any amount of pain I experienced.
That boy had a laugh and a smile that brightened the darkest corners of my life. He was so bright, so quick, so full of life. And so, so brave.
It will take a lifetime to articulate all that I have learned and am still learning from having that hero in my life. And today, when he would have been 22 (a non-event birthday, as he would have called it), I would have been anticipating his return in just a few weeks. I would have been dancing around, bugging him on Skype, making his favorite cookies, and whispering in his dog's ear that her boy would be home soon.
But my boy won't be coming home. There was a different plan for his life. And the pain is so deep and still so fresh. Sometimes it still takes my breath away. Sometimes I cry so hard that I don't think I will ever stop crying. But always, always I know this:
I REFUSE to let the pain of losing him overshadow the joy of knowing him.
So, we put flowers on his grave. We made cookies. Tonight we will eat with a few friends and celebrate knowing such an amazing person. We will continue to love each other, and we will always love that little boy who grew into such a fine man.
Happy Birthday, Spencer Duncan, my little pumpkin. I love you forever, and I like you for always. I miss you so.
