I hesitate to do this; I have yet to write down anything about you that seems too convinced, convincing; you are a fluid, amorphous body of light and breath and giggles and scowls, and I cannot pin you down.
Would not pin you down.
And even while I note, to myself, that there is anything specific and seemingly concrete about your existence, you surprise me. You spin and it is all fresh, the kaleidoscope has shifted and the beads have click click clicked into a new and terrifyingly lovely arrangement. My sight accustoming more and more lethargically as your spinning increases in complexity and speed.
My love for you remains, throughout the sifting clicking spinning amorphous light-speed arrangement, my truth. My bedrock.
And yours, I can only hope, in my non-religious fervor'd prayer.
You, born out of me by my straining and gasps and disbelief in my own body, that slithery-strange sensation, and the intense relief of pain ended, and an even more intense grappling with your face, the eyes, those fathoms-deep eyes into which I could have stared for an age (may have, indeed, done), that face, your face, and my singly uncynical response to your gaze, no larger truth have I ever encountered, that day, three years hence, than the one met in your wee bit of cheek, nose, eyes, mouth; that scowl, etched deep, that told me everything I could possibly need to know.
Your father - I blame him. He bade me release that last millimeter of self-strength; I released my timeless grip on my own resolve to allow you to maneuver through your personal portico and onto the balcony of life. I wooshed it away and as I did, you passed through into the sun. With much crying and all the requisite goo allowed.
My sweet, incredible, willful, beauteous, loved sun.
Jackson Ray. Happy day to us, boy-child. Three years from the day of reckoning, I am only too glad to greet the hereafter.
Even if it does mean a road littered with tantrums along the way. (Because there will also be cupcakes. Chocolate ones.)
Oh, boy, this is lovely. Happy birthday to your little one.
Posted by: Kelly | July 25, 2008 at 05:19 PM
achingly beautiful. happy day, indeed.
Posted by: slouching mom | July 25, 2008 at 05:28 PM
Oh Debbie. This is so beautiful.
Posted by: Mary | July 25, 2008 at 07:56 PM
Oh, Deb.
Posted by: flutter | July 25, 2008 at 09:43 PM
happy birthday to one of my favorite boys.
Posted by: nonlineargirl | July 25, 2008 at 11:21 PM
Yes, happy day to you both.
That paragraph about birth...perfect. Just perfect.
Posted by: Kyla | July 26, 2008 at 07:44 AM
Happy Birthday, gorgeous!
Posted by: jaelithe | July 26, 2008 at 07:49 AM
Gorgeous post, Deb.
Happy birthday, Jackson!
Posted by: Major Bedhead | July 26, 2008 at 05:17 PM
i hope you two have a very happy and sweet birthday.
Posted by: kirida | July 27, 2008 at 03:47 PM
Happy Birthday to your lil man! He's just about a month younger than P. When I move to Portland, because SOMEDAY I WILL, they can play together and pretend to karate kick each other and all that other weird stuff I see bigger boys doing on the playground.
Posted by: Izzy | July 27, 2008 at 11:13 PM
Oh gah, I didn't even wish YOU a happy birthday. Doy. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY DEAR DEBBIE. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
Posted by: Izzy | July 27, 2008 at 11:15 PM
OMG, I had no idea our kids were so close! Goldie turned 3 on the 26th.....
Happy birthday to the little guy...
Posted by: kirsten | July 28, 2008 at 08:26 PM
I've been away from your prose too long, my dear. Gorgeous.
And happy birthday to your littl'n
Posted by: Jchevais | July 29, 2008 at 02:29 AM
Hands down the best birthday post to a child I have ever seen..
Posted by: Kim | July 29, 2008 at 09:20 AM