Monthly Archives: February 2013

Happy birthday, David!

“Why did you name me, David”?, was the question my youngest son asked of my husband and I on the eve of his 10th birthday. 

“David is a strong, but gentle name.  It is a name befitting of a king and a name associated with great character.”  

Who would have thought that a name could so destine the boy?  

Remember when you were young and Valentine’s Day came around?  There was so much pressure because you really wanted to get a Valentine’s from the girl/boy you really liked?  Well, in David’s class, each child received a paper heart that was place on a string.  The heart was big enough that everyone could write on it – and everyone was supposed to write one word on it that they felt best represented that person.  David’s heart was filled with, “poli, gentil, sage”.  All I have ever wanted for my children was that they were respectful of others – and of course – happy.  I was thrilled to see what my son had come to be for so many others. 

On this, the occasion of David’s 10th birthday, my husband and I rejoice in our son.  He is our gift.  He has been our joy.  Of course, we have always seen all three of our children as wonderful people, but today is David’s day and is he who stands in the limelight.  

Ten years ago last night, I tucked Katya into bed when I experienced – for the first time – my water breaking.  I called to Kevin to get Grandma as she was only two blocks away and was our night-staff to watch the kids should we need to leave to the hospital at night. Kevin rushed the van down the road, jumped out to get Grandma and… locked the keys in the van.  It was -25 that night but he ran home to get the back up set – then back to Grandma’s house to get her.  We drove to the hospital.  To save on parking, we parked a distance away – I felt calm as David was the third child.  We didn’t realize the lower level door would be locked for construction and it was faster to climb the closed for the winter staircase than go back to the car.  Through the snow we trudged – scaled the fence – to discover the next door too was locked.  Fortunately someone else had pried it open and in we went.  The staff in maternity were not expecting traffic from our direction so they were surprised to see us enter.  They whisked us away – prepped for delivery and on the morning of the 17th – our David was born.  

David has never been average – his entrance to this world seemed to seal his fate to be extraordinary.  

This morning – Kevin and I took David to Sicilian for breakfast – Kevin toasted to David.  “To a boy who is never shy to give hugs, a boy who is first inclined to share, a boy who snuggles…”  David is a boy to is quick to offer help to someone in need – to share with those who have nothing – to offer his love unabashedly.  

I know if Mom and Dad were with us now they would be so proud of our David.  Mom always giggled when David played restaurant with her. Her order was always, “I’ll have a steak with baked potato, and an Alaskan baked pie for desert, please.”.  Dad always offered a great big grin when David climbed on is walker in order to get up onto Dad’s pink chair – to give Poppa a great big hug.  Dad would always say, “Oh, that’s so nice.”.  

Today – the Sun rose to wish David a happy birthday – and the sun will set with wishes for a continued wonderful year.  

Happy birthday

A smile says it all!

To our very dear boy – a very happy birthday!  May your day be befitting of a king!  

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From Carcass to Elixir

I still remember Mom’s turkey soup.  

She’d forbid anyone from throwing anything from the carcass out.  I looked at that hacked up pile of bones and wonder how the heck anyone would ever be able to ingest anything from that mess?  It was like magic – right from the moment she added water.  It was at the very time when the water boiled with the mystery ingredients that comfort arrived.  Those Glade candle commercials – you know the ones that show a room glowing from scent – hold nothing on her soup.  

And when it was finished – it HAD to be consumed.  Of course, there was never any question that we wouldn’t eat it – but sometimes a third bowl was required or it was considered that you, “didn’t like my cooking”, were Mom’s favorite words.  

I’ve been suffering with the flu over the past few days and find myself craving her soup.  I staggered to the kitchen and dropped a carcass into a vat of water – added the required elements – simmered and voila.  My soup was good – but it was not delivered to me by the hand of my Mom.  

And that makes all the difference.  It was never the turkey soup that smelled so good – it was the warmth from her soul that nurtured us and soothed us  back to health growing up.  There is no medicine you can buy that works as well as my Mom’s loving service to her family.  

I think Monday mornings need a little bit of Mom’s elixir to make them less like the carcass of the week-end and more like the soup that soothes the soul!     


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