A story about a Boy

Today is another joyous occasion.  We are celebrating another birthday in our home. I know for some of you, it must seem like we party all the time, and we almost do. In our house alone, we have a birthday in 9 of the 12 months.  This birthday today is extra special.  Our fourth child, third son, was born this day eight years ago.  Heath Jr. was a beautiful child, and I have written many things about him.  Being five weeks early, and spending almost three weeks in the NICU, I've written about him often.  So I'll just add in links so you can read about some of his history. 

Heath and Mom, age 2

This year, as always, I look at my now eight year old boy through the shimmer of brimming tears. I melt as I look into those massive pools of chocolate brown eyes; my heart trembles when he smiles and reveals his crooked smile and dimple.  And when he bounces into the room, cheerful as always, and hugs my neck, those tears spill over and I send up yet another prayer of thanksgiving to the God who gave me this child.

age 3

This boy has a heart to serve. Often I have to stop myself from scolding him for being in the way, or slowing me down. He has pushed me to find ways a small child can serve our household.  From reading to his younger siblings, entertaining babies, to asking me, "Mom, is there anything I can help you with", this child has an eye for needs.  He is tenderhearted, easily cries, and takes everything to heart. 

Cousins. They are inseparable.

At the same time, he is also my most adventurous.  I remember the first time he put skates on at a roller rink.  He was five years old, and within 15 minutes he was spinning circles, skating backwards, and teaching all the other boys how to speed skate into a wicked slide.  He has balance and coordination, and hasn't found anything with wheels he can't conquer.  He loves playing outside, and will spend hours playing catch.  He finds more dirt and mud than any other of the boys in my house.  And it never can seem to resist him!

So this eighth birthday, I will try not to hear the echoing of beeping hospital machines, nor see the ghosts of tubes and equipment hooked to my baby son.  I will live in this moment, and choose to see this precious child for what he is today.  And I think I'll cry anyway.

Looking far too grown up with his glasses.

Age 7




age 8

Happy Birthday, Richard Heath Jr. I love you more than I can ever express.

Beth