Counting the gifts

One more May 25. One more Jeremy's birthday. It would have been his 29th.

How does one count the gift of a human being, of personified love? Jeremy's birth mother gave in such an extraordinary manner, and made us people we had never been before--parents.

So many images scan through my memory, like those face pictures all made of up a thousand smaller likenesses of the same person. There was no countenance like his. I can say without a trace of sappiness that he was and remains my inspiration and hero, as he was to many who knew him. To Jeremy, there was always something grand to reach for, and so what if life got in the way? That was his gift to his world.

Patrick gave Jeremy a rock on which to stand, an anchor on which to pin. He was the constant to the boy driven by restless dreams. Ever loving and patient, Patrick modeled who the Father was and never stopped believing that his beloved Jeremy would one day understand. That was his supreme gift to his son, and we saw it come to pass.

Tonight I started playing a simple melody on my autoharp--G, C, D, C, G; G, C, D, C, G; and so on. I began to cry without realizing that I was hugging my 'harp the way I did my son when he was an infant--only I had to release him from my embrace, from my protection, from my expectations, and out to fight his dragons. That was my gift to Jeremy. The little song I composed today is "Jeremy's Lullabye". I didn't want to finish the song, just as I didn't want to be finished with the baby and the boy and the man. But to everything there is a season; every song has its completion. I made an end to the song and played it for Patrick as a celebration of the incredible gift we were given.

Thank you, Stacey and Patrick. Happy Jeremy's birthday to us.

And thank You, God.