I meant to post this on Friday, my son’s 25th birthday, but as things do, it got a little crazy and I forgot to. He’ll forgive me I’m sure. I just couldn’t let such a monumental birthday go by without saying thanks. Thanks for being an amazing son. For never calling to say you were in jail and needed bail money. For never telling us you were being held in a foreign country for smuggling. For never choosing the path of drugs and alcohol, although we can see from your Facebook account that you’ve enjoyed your share of beers around the world.
But we also want to thank you for what you are. A well-traveled man of the world who shares his good fortune with his friends and family. For being kind, considerate, and caring and for always being a joy to have visit us, even if it’s only for a few minutes as you’re always on your way to somewhere else.
We forgive you for the yellow hair with orange tips you insisted on sporting in your teens. The pierced ear, now gone with only a faint scar to mark its presence that also marked your teens. As well as the party you threw when we were out-of-town when you were in high school that you only confessed to last year.
How we became the parents of a kid so old is beyond me. It seems like just yesterday I was overdue with you, and Seattle was hit with a snowstorm so unusual it was dubbed “Snowmagedon” by the press. For days, the snow piled up, and when I went into labor, there weren’t any nurses at the hospital that worked there. It was declared an emergency, so nurses reported to the closest hospital to their homes.
Your birth was terrifying as you had your cord wrapped three times around your neck, but you bounced back, pinked up, and let us know you were happy to be a part of the world. And you’ve never stopped. You find joy in the world, and we love you for that.
So, here’s to 25 years of amazing memories and for the hope that you have many, many more.