my pal

Christian was born on a Sunday, Father's Day Sunday as a matter fact. The doctor was on his way to church when the hospital got hold of him. He came in, assessed the situation, called his wife and told her that he'd meet her there sometime before the sermon. He did too. It was all routine to him. It was a day like no other for me.

Sometimes I catch myself doing the things my dad does. His expressions and mannerisms have been passed down the family line, and I don't even notice it sometimes until it startles me. Dad shakes his head from side to side when he sees someone doing something that isn't smart. So do I. He exhausts that long breath of air through his nose when he's frustrated. Me too. I'm a lot like my dad in a lot of ways, intentional or not.

I look at Christian and sometimes I think I see too much of me. He handles school the way I did. He approaches sports the way I did. He has a lot of my features and a lot of my mannerisms and too much of my attitude. I don't know whether to be proud or try and do something about it. Regardless, he's my son, and I couldn't imagine waking up or laying down without his existence in my world.

He's fifteen as of today. It's hard for me to believe that I've known him that long. We've passed baseballs, footballs and Frisbees. He's embarrassed me on the basketball court and beat the spit out of me on video games too many times. We send MySpace notes and text messages to each other. Sometimes we just sit with the phone to our ears and don't say much. When we're apart it makes us feel closer. Concerts and movies and cruises and roller coaster rides together are all in our past. I'm anxious to see what our future looks like.

Happy birthday Pal!! You're the best I've got. Did I tell you that I love you?