Dear D,

Nine years ago today I woke up at 7am with a bit of cramping.  It was a Sunday morning, two weeks before your due date.  Being my first child, I never expected to deliver early.  I figured it was nothing.  But that didn’t stop me from calling your Grammie.  She didn’t think much of it either, and she went on to church.

By the time she got home from church, she had about 5 messages waiting for her on her answering machine, the last one informing her that she had a grandson.  That’s right, at 12:40pm, just five hours after my first labor pain, you were born!  The nurses and doctor said that you shot out like a cannonball.  Unfortunately that meant you destroyed everything in your wake.  It took me weeks to recover, but you were worth every second of it.

When the doctor placed you in my arms, it was truly love at first sight.  As cliche as that may sound, it’s the only way I know to describe it.  I never had any idea I had that much love inside of me.  I remember laying in the hospital bed, just looking at you and wondering at how perfect you were.  I would stare at you for hours, drinking you in.  I couldn’t even sleep that first night, I was so excited.  I kept waking up and thinking, “I’m a mom!”

Well, that and, “Where’s the Percoset!?”

Okay, so it wasn’t all sunshine and daisies, but YOU made it all worthwhile.

You’ve always been such an affectionate little guy.  In fact, that’s what we called you.  Do you remember?  Little Guy was your nickname for the first few years of your life.  You were so laid back and easy-going.  I could set you down, and you would just occupy yourself.  For hours.  As you grew older, you would sit and read books while I did my thing.  No one could believe it.

You were never one to do anything hurriedly.  I thought you’d never walk.  But you did, in your own time.  You were 18 months old when you took your first steps, and then you never looked back.  You quickly caught up to your peers — running and jumping with the best of them.  You just wanted to wait until you were sure of what you were doing, I guess.  You’re still like that.  You observe and wait until you are sure how to do something, and then you go for it.  That quality will serve you well, I’m sure.

I love that you are sensitive and eager to please.  When I get frustrated with your sisters, you often come give me a hug or offer to help.  I love that you aren’t too cool to give me a hug and a kiss before you get on the bus.  I love that you know more baseball stats than the average grown man.  I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished.

You’ve grown into such a nice boy.  I guess you aren’t a Little Guy anymore.  I can’t wait to see the man you become.  My prayer is that you will seek to honor God in everything you do.  Happy Birthday!