Happy Birthday Greg

Early New Years resolution ~ write more in my blog. More than every 4 months anyway! And update the music in my playlist!

I'm writing today because I'm feeling kind of happy, yet kind of sad. 20 years ago today at 11:36 am a beautiful baby boy was born. Greg was always a bundle of energy, always very alert, very wakeful at times that I didn't want him to be. He was my only baby that really had bouts of colic. Oh how he loved to swing, and swing, and swing! Sometimes he'd be swinging at 3 in the morning. Only constant repetitive movement would keep him quiet. Like the spin cycle on the washer. Been there, done that. But it was short lived as the spin cycle only lasts a few minutes. Constant white noise would keep him hushed too, like the sound of a vacuum cleaner's hum, the static sound from the TV when a channel won't come in. He outgrew the colic in a few weeks, but the constant motion and noise continued. He was always into everything, climbing, running, making noises!

That energy was channeled into sports soon enough: baseball, soccer, basketball, and last but most definitely NOT least... football. He loved football: watching it, playing it. He played in middle school and into his Freshman year of high school. He continues to love watching it, both college football and the NFL. He is, without a doubt, the New Orleans Saints #1 fan!

That constant energy manifested itself in ADD symptoms, difficulty paying attention and organizing his time. Greg also loved to talk, and still continues to enjoy conversation about his interests: sports, politics, entertainment and now religion and his faith.

And so here I am, missing him terribly but so proud of him and the energy he is expending right now. Only he's not watching his favorite team as they make history and are Super Bowl bound. He's not staying up all night any more playing his favorite games on his XBox. He's no longer debating friends, family and teachers about politics. His stereo is no longer blasting his favorite country tunes. His time and energy are spent in much more noble endeavors. The late nights are no more, unless he is struggling with insomnia. The music and sports are mostly things of the past. Greg is now busy finding souls to teach, giving service to those in need. Those busy little feet that were always running and jumping have grown to become steadfast and sure, filling shoes that are likely becoming worn from constant walking and pedaling. The tiny 6 pound 14 ounce babe has matured in mind, spirit and body. I do truly miss him terribly at times, but take comfort in the knowledge that he is Okay.

Sometimes I imagine hearing his odd noises, banshee yells, and nervous hand rubbing...

I cherish those memories, yet I realize he's creating new ones, touching people's lives in countless ways. I can yet hear the pitter patter of his little feet running toward me. But then I hear the sound of those same feet, slower and more steady walking away from me and towards a

new world just waiting.