Today is a day that will live in infamy. Well, at least in our family. Today is the day that my beautiful, oldest son Jeffrey was born. In 1985. 1985. It seems like just a moment ago you were holding my hand and thinking I had all the answers to the universe.
You were always curious, energetic and had great introspective.
My favorite memory of your toddlerhood is when you three years old, we were driving past a fire station. You told me that you wanted to grow up to be the person that fixes the fire trucks. I asked why that job. Most little boys wanted to be a fireman. You said “mommy, someone has to make sure the firemen gets to the fire.”
That sentence sums up who you were and who you continue to be. The caretaker. I love you so much son, your strength, your character and your ability to make sure the firemen get to the fire.
I thank God every single day that I get to be your mom. I also thank Him every day that you allow me to be a part of your daughter’s life.
On this day, the day that you were born, I celebrate the privilege of being chosen to be your mom.
I love you son.