Happy Mothers Day Birthday Boy

Monday's post is coming on Sunday this week.

Reading it will tell you why it had to be posted on my usually quiet weekend.

Happy Happy Mothers Day to you all! 

This year I may just remember to call him when it happened.

It was 12:16pm when he entered the world, sunnyside up, eyes open, wondering what he'd missed while he traveled through the birth canal.  Teaching hospitals are busy busy places most days, but a Sunday morning in May is not one of those days.  Especially when it's Mothers' Day.

The delivery room was peaceful and relatively uninhabited, just the baby and TBG and Janice our obstetrician-and-friend and me. Suddenly we were parents, responsible for another human being who was only on this planet because of us.  I'd thought I was a grown-up on May 7th; I became an adult on May 8th.

Moms at Prentice Woman's Hospital got roses and prime rib lunches because it was  Mothers Day and there was a general sense of joy in the air. TBG went to Golden Nugget for a table covering breakfast and then returned to hold the most wonderful boy in the world on his lap for hours. And hours. And hours.  They stared at one another, my two guys, learning the curves of the other's face, the tilt of his head, the feel of his arms.  They bonded, connected, super-glued themselves to one another.  They are still stuck that way, 28 years later.

I was in the gym doing leg lifts at the exact anniversary moment of his birth one year later.  I happened to glance at the clock as the instructor was instructing and I felt the glow of him all through me, like a shot of adrenaline and love coursing through my veins.  I'd never had another human make me feel the way that he did.  I reveled in the wonder of it all as I crunched. 

Every 6 or 11 years his natal day and the Hallmark holiday fall on the same date.  We perused the perpetual calendar yesterday on the phone, looking for the pattern.  Mostly we laughed about search terms and the fact that the paper perpetual calendar that was posted on the basement door in my home growing up would have given us the answer in half the time the interweb was taking to figure out exactly what we had in mind. 

Big Cuter had never heard of a perpetual calendar, and TBG and I thought that peruse meant "once over lightly" as opposed to "carefully investigating" but we set one another right on all those topics and mostly we laughed.  Big, belly shaking, head wagging laughs. Laughs over nothing.  Memories sparking more giggles.  It was fun.  It was funny.  It was normal.

The next time his birthday conflates with the holiday is 2022.  I'll be 70.  He'll be 39. 

You know he is looking hard at those numbers right now.

I think I'll call him and flood him with some more love.  There's always more love where he is concerned.