Is Jacob a small man in a normal chair or a normal man on a gimondo chair??
There is way too much to say about the wild humor, imagination, and whimsy of my son, Jacob. And about how he spent the first five years of his life scaring me because he was born 11 weeks early. it took me a long time to believe that he would ever be safe. There was even a time when I didn’t believe–when I begged the heavens for–the chance for him to live to be two. He was so sick and weak I couldn’t even bring myself to hope for more than that he would wear size two clothes. I would look into his fierce little eyes and whisper, “I’ll never be happy without you.” To his great credit, his fierce will to survive pulled him through each crisis. And every year, he would wear bigger clothes. I would rejoice at the jackets flung on the couch, the sneakers I would trip over. Even more, I rejoiced in the Jacobness of Jacob. From this tiny creature unspooled a compassionate, sensitive, wildly creative, very quirky human being. With each year, he has found ways to challenge me, to make me laugh, to think, and to feel a powerful surge of gratitude. He is 21 now. A man. It’s fun to be with the adult Jacob. And it’s a miracle. More than ever, I can’t imagine how I’d ever be happy again without him. I suppose I’d have to. I’d owe it to the other people who love me. But I’m glad that I didn’t have to miss a day of the growing and changing of my beautiful young man. So glad that my real life had the magic unfurling of Jacob’s rich, complex and delicious personality to love–and that the reality so far exceeded the best vision of his future I could imagine for him in those dark days of his babyhood. Happy birthday, Jacob my love. May you have many, many more.
Writing Prompt: Who makes you happy?
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