Seeing Things

 23 years. How can it be?

The sisters make a group call, laughing, bubbling over with love and a bad case of missing-their-brotheritis disguised in goofy comments, random remarks, and lame jokes.

I look at my man-child and marvel that the intersection of his parent's love, Biology, youthful ideals, and God's Will produced this wonderful person.

I see a fun, kind, generous, big-hearted, loyal, friendly, hard-working, young man I'm very proud of.

I also see a sweet baby boy that his father wanted to name "Sven" or "Olie" but we didn't live in Norway so we decided on Andrew Peter. Someone once said that Andrew's name fit him because Andrew and Peter were brothers in the Bible and since Andrew never had a brother he had to be his own brother.

I see a toddler with fat red cheeks who walked and talked early and liked to comment on everything. Who was afraid to go to sleep at night because he heard "Scary Walking Noises." Who was fascinated with Garbage Men and Firetrucks.

I see a young boy with a Homer Price haircut who loved to watch football with his Daddy. And because Daddy loved the Denver Broncos, Andrew loved the Denver Broncos and lived and breathed football.

I see a knucklehead who wasn't wearing shoes and wiped out on a moped on a gravel road and caused his squeamish parents to turn inside out as they watched a doctor stitch up his forehead.

I see a clown, someone who enjoyed making other people laugh.

I see someone who's always been good with kids. Probably because he's such a big kid himself. 

I see an ornery person who struck a Koala Bear pose while taking his senior pictures

 I see a Grandma who always said, "Oh, he's such a nice boy."

 I see a Super Hero who could hold up the Golden Gate Bridge

Push boulders

Turn back the tide

Fight off the British

 And love on his sisters. 

  I see goofy. Definitely goofy.

I see smiles and mischief

I see a brother who let his sisters mess with his hair.

I see someone who dearly wanted a brother but loves his sisters.

I see a young man who loves his wife and once a few 

rough edges are rubbed off should make a fine husband.

I see a child who isn't here to celebrate his birthday and sending a 

birthday card and cash is not nearly as fun as celebrating in person.

Happy Birthday Son. You are loved. (And missed)