"Happy breakfast to you, happy breakfast to you...!" That was the song I was greeted with this morning, when Max brought me breakfast in bed. Yes, my now eight year old boy brought me breakfast that he prepared himself. The breakfast was entirely his idea and effort. He cooked turkey sausages and set them on a plate next to a bowl of cereal and a glass of milk.
Today is Max's birthday, and how awesome is he? He is very awesome indeed. As I reflect on our journey, the good and the rough, I am thoroughly impressed, blessed and delighted to have Max in my life. Life challenges him in uncommon ways. He has done more than overcome obstacles; he is exceedingly thoughtful, intelligent and dear. I keep thinking of the day he was born. I held his small head in my palm, his body in my arm, and I can still feel the softness and warmth of it, and I relive the sensation and the wonder and the wish that I never forget the sweetness of that moment. From that day to this... life is good.