Happy Birthday!
Eighteen years ago I met you for the very first time. The prettiest baby boy. The first thing I saw as you were birthed from your mother’s womb was one huge dimple, on your left cheek. Soft, curly, black hair. Beautiful, brown skin. My first grandson. It was love at first sight.
I had had nine months to get use to the idea of having a grandchild. To be honest with you, it wasn’t that easy at first. I’m not professing to have handled it with much grace. Your mama was 22 and unmarried. I can still hear her now, "Mama, I'm pregnant." It rang in my ears and burdened my heart for a very long time. She had been living with your daddy. I didn’t really know him well, but because he had other children that were living with their grandmother, I was concerned about what kind of daddy he was going to be, if one at all. He was African American. I got off the phone with her. And I cried for months. I even pleaded with God. You have to understand how it was for me, being raised in the south in the 60’s. Black and white people were just beginning to go to school together, drink from the same water fountain and eat in the same restaurant. It was just the culture of our time. Races didn’t mix much. Even though, our housekeeper/baby sitter was a black woman that kept me when I was young and I had a lot of black friends in high school, we didn’t go home with each other to spend the night. I didn’t know of any bi-racial couples. It was foreign to me. I don’t think I had ever seen a mixed child before. Like I said, I had nine months to let it all sink in. After I saw you for the first time, all my fears melted on the floor like a pile of white snow in a warm room. I was totally smitten.
You were a fun-loving, happy child. Chunky cheeks and legs. Not overweight. But just the right amount of pudginess to make you want to get a pinch or two. You did love to eat. I can’t think of anything that you didn’t like. You loved to talk. The only problem was, we couldn’t understand you. You created a language all your own for the imaginative world you lived in. You were very busy. It was really hard to rein you in. Maybe we didn’t try very hard. You loved the outdoors, so that is where you spent a lot of your time, catching bugs...anything that had had six legs; maybe a spider or lizard too. I can hear you now, "Ammie, can I have a jar?" You faithfully asked every time you set foot in my house. I opened the cabinet to look through my collection of jars and plastic butter tubs that I had saved just for you, punched a whole in the top and you were off. Off on another critter hunt. No bug was safe when you were around. You have always loved to fish. I guess the very first place that you ever fished was in the pond at your nana and papa’s house. The day you caught your first catfish, hooked you for life. Do you remember picking up colorful fall leaves on our walks? Acorns too. Picnics. Swimming. You were a friendly little boy. I remember telling you and your brother at a lake one time. "Now, you don't have to talk to everyone you see in the water. You can just swim and have fun.” The next thing I knew you would be all up in someone's conversation. It was useless for me to ever say anything. This great big world has always been your playground.
It brought me great enjoyment to be in the same school with you. Since I was teaching there, I was able to be there on your first day of Kindergarten and your last day of 5th grade. And Summer school. You got at least 6 years of summer school because I was teaching it. It wasn’t that bad. We had fun visiting the library and playing with friends. School was always a little difficult for you. You’re definitely kin to your Ammie. If we aren't using our hands or our imagination, then forget it! Most things just don't keep our attention. Organization is not our forte either. I remember going to your kindergarten class and looking in your cubby on occasion. Papers were smashed in there deep and wide. Never could keep up with anything. "Where's your folder?" "Where's your library book,” I asked more times than I care to remember. They were no where to be found. Organization wasn’t your thing but singing and dancing was. I'm sure you were popular in kindergarten because of your dance moves. I loved watching you dance. You were not the least bit bashful. Ready to share your talent with anyone that would watch. Science has always been your love. So glad that you had a great science teacher. You really enjoyed his class. You enjoyed him too. He liked you. You found your talent in sports; especially baseball. You were a really good pitcher. I’ll never forget the night I saw you hit your first home run. It was pretty amazing. It brought back a lot of memories. Watching you pitch and all. It was just the natural thing to do, to stay at the baseball fields. I had done it for over 15 years with your uncle. I’m so sorry that you felt like you couldn’t stay in school and that for some reason you felt like you weren’t getting the support you needed to finish. I haven’t walked in your shoes, so I don’t understand how you feel. But, I do know that you can do whatever you set your mind to do, so don’t ever give up on finishing school. It is never too late. You have a lot of unique talents. Just like when you were a small child, you have to find your place again.
I was blessed to get to take you to church when you were younger. You have always had a kind and tender heart toward the things of the Lord. I love how you love Jesus. I’m so glad that God brought Pawpaw into our lives. I know that he was tough at times. But, I don’t think there was ever a time that he didn’t hug you and tell you he loved you after he disciplined you. God knew that we needed him in our lives. Tough love had never been in mine or your mama’s vocabulary. I’m pretty sure he had a little wisdom that we both needed. We have had a lot of fun too. The fire pit in the back yard became your stage. You, your brother and sister entertained us. He was always amazed at your talents of improvisation; story telling, dancing, and singing. The back porch became our sanctuary. Visits from the red birds caught our watchful eye and a picture or two. Polar Express and hot chocolate became our yearly tradition. Watching Super Man with “the boys” was a highlight for him. You have brought a lot of joy to our lives.
I’m so sorry about all the tough things that you, your brother, and little sister have had to go through. They are not easily understood. But one thing I know without a doubt is God never allows things to happen that are outside of his plan for our lives. He uses each one for our good. I remember one night in particular that we made a circle and held hands and prayed. He stored those precious tears in bottles that night. And every night since then. Your mama has had a really hard time raising three children alone. It has been harder for her than I can imagine. I’m sorry that you have a daddy that hasn’t been there for you. And a grandfather too. All we can do is pray. Pray that they find Jesus. Pray that one day they come to you and tell you how much they love you. You were not named Malachi by accident. Malachi 4: 6 says He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of their children to their fathers. This can be our prayer.
You were never an accident. You are not inferior to anyone. You are loved by an awesome Heavenly Father. Always remember…Jesus is the only one that has the answer, always ask Him.
I saw a Facebook post the other day that said, in my own words, God gave me a special needs child because my heart needed a lot of work done on it. I really understand that. God gave me a "special situation" because my heart needed work done on it. I thank God for you. More than you will ever know.
My kitchen is always open for you. Who knows…I might can even find a jar or two 💝
Happy Birthday!
love you forever,
ammie
No comments:
Post a Comment