Birthday

Today is Joel's 27th birthday. I made the mistake of leaving his present in Indiana, but Joel more than made up for it by ordering some new basketball shoes.

Mostly, I've been reflecting today on the wonderful man I married. Everett has always loved his father, but lately that love has been turning more into an outright adoration. He wants to do everything with Joel, because he knows that everything is more fun with his Papa. Ashley, too, is beginning to prefer her father's arms to my own.

I am glad. I can't think of anyone else in his life I would rather my children emulate.

Tonight, Everett went to bed and was generally compliant about it, even when I informed him that yes, I had to tuck him in tonight because Papa had gone to play basketball and would not see him until morning.

A few minutes later, I hear a symphony of wails and Everett's signature growling yell flowing from the crack under his bedroom door. When I opened it, Everett spoke one word: Papa.

"PAPA!! PAPA!!! PAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPAAAAAA!!!!!"

There was nothing I could do but try to comfort and console him back into bed. I fought back irritation and saw Everett's weepy two-year-old eyes and splotchy face, red from being so upset. I noticed his trembling body, brimming with too much feeling for him to control well. I comforted him, gave him some milk, and after a very long while things were right again. But I realized with a deep pang that I was unbelievably glad I could say to Everett that his father would return, that he would see his father again, that his father could tuck this boy into bed the next night, and the night after that.

Some people do not have that blessing. For some reason I can't quite comprehend, I do right now. The weight of my gratitude has filled me tonight in the knowledge that not only is Joel present, but he is present as the man I love and admire, and the father my children adore.

I can't think of a better way to experience a birthday.