Babies Don't Keep

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Just a year has passed, but in that year, a lifetime. Bun, you are one year old.

On this day last year, I heard your first cry.

On this day last year, they took you out of my arms when your first cry betrayed your early arrival.

On this day last year, your Dad and I could not hold you. We had to stand and scrub ourselves before looking at you from afar in your plastic bed.

On this day last year, I cried myself to sleep.

But a year of God's grace has passed, and now you are so near to me and so dear to me that I could not keep my hands from you if I tried. I hold you now because I couldn't then.

You are a darling dumpling of a boy, blue-eyed and golden-haired and dimpled cheeked. You have a ready smile, an impish style, a way to beguile, you're a lovely child. And you are ours.

How blessed. Happy Birthday, Bun.