Coming, Going and Crossing Paths
Today is my oldest daughter’s birthday. She turns 34. Typically, that’s the kind of birthday number that’s pretty nondescript. Most people don’t pay a lot of attention to their 34th. 30 or 35, sure; 34, not so much.
Of course, any birthday number can become ‘descript’ if it happens to intersect some other numerical path that instantly transfers meaning to it, and that’s what happened today. Two 34s crossed paths and everyone involved momentarily felt a little off center.
My wife was 34 when I met her.
While I met my wife 12 years ago, it’s a little disconcerting to think of my daughter being the age my wife was when we began seeing each other “not that long ago”. Suddenly, I’m able to picture my daughter being 46 and my wife being 58. Of course, I can’t picture myself being 70 when that happens. That’s a galaxy far, far away. Math may be perfectly logical, but time gets a little warped on occasion.
I remember the evening of December 23, 1972, in vivid detail. There are few moments in life more dramatic and more meaningful than the moment that someone becomes a parent. Everything changes; nothing is ever the same. I remember the evening of December 3, 1994, in vivid detail. There are few moments in life more significant than the moment we meet someone who makes everything change; someone who ensures that nothing will ever be the same. Those two evenings have brought me immeasurable joy.
I’m very grateful for the two 34s; for those two December meetings; and for the changes that each of them brought into my life. I don’t want anything to be the way it was before those two evenings, with one exception.
On December 6, 1994, I met two boys who would become my stepsons. They also brought joy and life-altering changes into my life. But, the one thing I want the way it was before that December evening is to have Danny back. I want to watch him become 34. With him gone, nothing will ever be the same.
We are told that all meetings end in separation. But we don’t always appreciate how everything changes in both of those moments in time, and we don’t always appreciate the joy that lies between them. Tonight, I do.
posted by Jonathan @ 12/23/2006 11:26:00 PM
1 comments
1 Comments:
"I want to watch him become 34." I do, too. Selfishly, I mourn for the big, sweet, juicy, unknown part of MY future that is gone. What would he be and who would he bring into his life? And dare I consider his children? It hurts too much, but I dip into those waters occasionally, nonetheless.
Thank you for “balance” and for all the ways you share him in the present with me.
Twelve years ago, Christmas was a magical time. Bobby & Martha must have wondered about my visit to Portland that year—I was pretty focused on my phone calls! And someone was back at home spraying my perfume...heehee. So much has happened in twelve years that could have caused our ship to run aground. But it hasn't, probably because you have a good sense of humor. ;-) My Mom always said that was important!
Merry Christmas, HOTS. You are good for my soul, and have brought me some wonderful “presents” including five great stepchildren and their lovely little ones.
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