For 25 years of my life, there was really only 1 man in my life. Just one. I loved him (still do, sorry to say) more than I did myself sometimes. I believed everything was better because he was in it. When he was with me, laughs were better. When he was with me, food tasted better. When he was with me, I felt at peace. I felt as if nothing could go wrong. Then, as many of you know, and as happens many times in life these days, that man left my life. Truth be known, we had left each other’s lives long before he physically stepped out the door. There I was. Manless.
Recently, however, as many of you also know, another man entered my life. I gotta tell you—when I write I close my eyes a lot. I close my eyes and try to fill all my senses with who or what it is that I’m trying to explain to you—my faithful reader. And today I’m finding it hard to keep my eyes closed because ALL I CAN DO IS SMILE!
I think of his face, and I smile. I think of his unconditional love for me, and I smile. I think of his arms around me and his voice and his eyes and I smile. All my senses scream one thing—I love this man.
Jaxon Zachery Backus is my 2 year old grandson. Within the next several weeks he will be joined at home by a little brother, never to be an only child again. I suppose when that happens, we often spend time mulling over the realization that it’s going to be difficult for the older child. I’ve been thinking about that Jaxon, and I wanted to speak directly to you about your 2 little years thus far on earth.
Know that you are loved. My God, are you loved. Mom and Dad, Grandmas, Grandpas, G-Pa’s, Ya-Ya, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, everybody sees you as a precious little angle sent to us—and you are.
I spent some time at your Mom’s home and had the privilege of taking care of you. It wasn’t easy. Lots of spilled soda, and sticky messes, and walks to the post office. Lots of chasing you away from the road, and trying to convince you that books were better than Nerf shotguns. Lots of poopy diapers and missing baby bottles. Lots of trouble. But there was lots of love too, baby boy. I couldn’t get enough of you, and although I cannot speak for you, I think you couldn’t get enough of me either. We watched TV together every day at naptime, when you insisted on holding my earlobe while you drank your “ba ba.” We walked to the post office every day, when you insisted on carrying the box key (and lost it more than once). We laughed, and read books, and colored, and made Ya-Ya’s famous popcorn. And the whole time I spent with you I couldn’t get enough of you. Your hair, that beautiful blonde, soft as a baby chicks. Your quizzical looks, always asking questions. Your laugh, your hug, your eyes—exactly the same color as mine. I inhaled you. Literally inhaled you into me and thanked God for you.
Some days I am so excited to think of what you will become when you grow up. To think of all the possibilities life has in store for you fills me with wonder. Those times are also tempered with sadness. A plea in my heart to keep you small. To keep your hands small enough to fit into mine, and you light enough for me to sweep up in my arms and hold tight. To keep those quizzical looks on your face, instead of the “knowing-all” looks kids get when they get older. Soon you will be an older brother. But you will always be my baby.
I love you Jax.
Monday, October 4, 2010
My New Man
For 25 years of my life, there was really only 1 man in my life. Just one. I loved him (still do, sorry to say) more than I did myself sometimes. I believed everything was better because he was in it. When he was with me, laughs were better. When he was with me, food tasted better. When he was with me, I felt at peace. I felt as if nothing could go wrong. Then, as many of you know, and as happens many times in life these days, that man left my life. Truth be known, we had left each other’s lives long before he physically stepped out the door. There I was. Manless.
Recently, however, as many of you also know, another man entered my life. I gotta tell you—when I write I close my eyes a lot. I close my eyes and try to fill all my senses with who or what it is that I’m trying to explain to you—my faithful reader. And today I’m finding it hard to keep my eyes closed because ALL I CAN DO IS SMILE!
I think of his face, and I smile. I think of his unconditional love for me, and I smile. I think of his arms around me and his voice and his eyes and I smile. All my senses scream one thing—I love this man.
Jaxon Zachery Backus is my 2 year old grandson. Within the next several weeks he will be joined at home by a little brother, never to be an only child again. I suppose when that happens, we often spend time mulling over the realization that it’s going to be difficult for the older child. I’ve been thinking about that Jaxon, and I wanted to speak directly to you about your 2 little years thus far on earth.
Know that you are loved. My God, are you loved. Mom and Dad, Grandmas, Grandpas, G-Pa’s, Ya-Ya, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, everybody sees you as a precious little angle sent to us—and you are.
I spent some time at your Mom’s home and had the privilege of taking care of you. It wasn’t easy. Lots of spilled soda, and sticky messes, and walks to the post office. Lots of chasing you away from the road, and trying to convince you that books were better than Nerf shotguns. Lots of poopy diapers and missing baby bottles. Lots of trouble. But there was lots of love too, baby boy. I couldn’t get enough of you, and although I cannot speak for you, I think you couldn’t get enough of me either. We watched TV together every day at naptime, when you insisted on holding my earlobe while you drank your “ba ba.” We walked to the post office every day, when you insisted on carrying the box key (and lost it more than once). We laughed, and read books, and colored, and made Ya-Ya’s famous popcorn. And the whole time I spent with you I couldn’t get enough of you. Your hair, that beautiful blonde, soft as a baby chicks. Your quizzical looks, always asking questions. Your laugh, your hug, your eyes—exactly the same color as mine. I inhaled you. Literally inhaled you into me and thanked God for you.
Some days I am so excited to think of what you will become when you grow up. To think of all the possibilities life has in store for you fills me with wonder. Those times are also tempered with sadness. A plea in my heart to keep you small. To keep your hands small enough to fit into mine, and you light enough for me to sweep up in my arms and hold tight. To keep those quizzical looks on your face, instead of the “knowing-all” looks kids get when they get older. Soon you will be an older brother. But you will always be my baby.
I love you Jax.
Recently, however, as many of you also know, another man entered my life. I gotta tell you—when I write I close my eyes a lot. I close my eyes and try to fill all my senses with who or what it is that I’m trying to explain to you—my faithful reader. And today I’m finding it hard to keep my eyes closed because ALL I CAN DO IS SMILE!
I think of his face, and I smile. I think of his unconditional love for me, and I smile. I think of his arms around me and his voice and his eyes and I smile. All my senses scream one thing—I love this man.
Jaxon Zachery Backus is my 2 year old grandson. Within the next several weeks he will be joined at home by a little brother, never to be an only child again. I suppose when that happens, we often spend time mulling over the realization that it’s going to be difficult for the older child. I’ve been thinking about that Jaxon, and I wanted to speak directly to you about your 2 little years thus far on earth.
Know that you are loved. My God, are you loved. Mom and Dad, Grandmas, Grandpas, G-Pa’s, Ya-Ya, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, everybody sees you as a precious little angle sent to us—and you are.
I spent some time at your Mom’s home and had the privilege of taking care of you. It wasn’t easy. Lots of spilled soda, and sticky messes, and walks to the post office. Lots of chasing you away from the road, and trying to convince you that books were better than Nerf shotguns. Lots of poopy diapers and missing baby bottles. Lots of trouble. But there was lots of love too, baby boy. I couldn’t get enough of you, and although I cannot speak for you, I think you couldn’t get enough of me either. We watched TV together every day at naptime, when you insisted on holding my earlobe while you drank your “ba ba.” We walked to the post office every day, when you insisted on carrying the box key (and lost it more than once). We laughed, and read books, and colored, and made Ya-Ya’s famous popcorn. And the whole time I spent with you I couldn’t get enough of you. Your hair, that beautiful blonde, soft as a baby chicks. Your quizzical looks, always asking questions. Your laugh, your hug, your eyes—exactly the same color as mine. I inhaled you. Literally inhaled you into me and thanked God for you.
Some days I am so excited to think of what you will become when you grow up. To think of all the possibilities life has in store for you fills me with wonder. Those times are also tempered with sadness. A plea in my heart to keep you small. To keep your hands small enough to fit into mine, and you light enough for me to sweep up in my arms and hold tight. To keep those quizzical looks on your face, instead of the “knowing-all” looks kids get when they get older. Soon you will be an older brother. But you will always be my baby.
I love you Jax.
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