9/11,such memorable numbers..
Most of us remember where we were on this day in 2001, the tragedy,the history,the remembrances that continue.
But my September 11th is different. My 9/11 is in 2007. The day my son came ooey gooey into this world,eyes open,full head of black hair matted and sticky to his soft pink head.
The mixture of joy and fear,hope and trepidation.
But he had all his fingers and toes that seemed to be in all the correct places,so he was off to a pretty good start.
Today is again 9/11. He is now 6 years old. Not only are all his fingers and toes still in the right places,his heart is too. He makes me proud to be his Daddy.
There are so many stories I’d love to share of him and his deeds, but today was as fine an example as any of his pleasure of being a boy…
Unbeknownst to him,after I had dropped them off at school this morning I was compelled to finally pay a ticket I had been putting off.
And how cool that I did. It’s not often my procrastinating pays off,yet today was guided by the powers of synchronicity. Walking out of the municipal building I noticed the fire station was located next door. The men had gotten back not long before my arrival from a pretty terrific accident and Doing what fire fighters and emt’s do to make ready for the next time.. On a lark I ventured over to pay respects to their service on this day of reverence and in our case celebration which I proceeded to share with them. Explaining my son’s love for all things loud,shiny,scary,noble
and of course fire related I asked if they would mind us stopping back after I picked him up from school. To my complete delight and surprise not only where they open to the idea but excited too,offering to give him this and that and showing him all the bells and whistles.. Now this is sight unseen,I mean this boy of my could have been a total snot nosed little…Well,you know.
I also had the notion perhaps I was being viewed as weird guy #1 and placating me was safe alternative to chasing me away with a full on dose of high pressure H2O..
However when we returned,besides the 3 fellas I had spoken with initially we were received by the rest of the crew,still maintaining their duties but outgoing and warm to this star struck little boy. Men coming out of doors and rooms and trucks and all manners of nooks and crannies with Hi-5’s and happy birthdays. The sounds of “hey little man,howya doing buddy,I hear its your Birthdays” coming out of nowhere. Not to mention the all the “here ya goes&better not leave without 1 of theses,and you can’t be a proper fire fighter withouts”.. Eyes ever widening he followed our main guide who was so at tentative and kind I got the feeling he may have been missing his boy too.
But all the whe Max never forgot a “yes sir,thank you or please”. When they offered their hands to him he clasped back firmly making eye contact with even the biggest guy,when they asked him questions he listened and answered with respect. I admit, when I wasn’t too distracted by my own boyish dreams and hero worship,I was beaming with the pride of being this fine young boys father.
So in reverence to this solemn day,I will never look at it in despair but with gratitude and love. This is the day my Sonnyboy was born into my life,sealing me to him as his father. How grateful am I.
Happy Birthday my wonderful son. I love you beyond words!
9/11,such memorable numbers..