Fashion Stories & Dirty Laundry

My son turned the seminal double digit “10” last Friday; late Saturday afternoon into evening, the birthday party I had long thought of and planned came whether I was ready or not.

Thankfully (and I usually don’t brag too much), I have ‘party planner’ talents and admit I threw a fun but classy party. It didn’t hurt that although he’s the new kid in the neighborhood, 15 kids celebrated him and over 35 people in total joined in at our new abode. Impressive. We should all be so fortunate.

However, I didn’t want to write just about the ‘cool stuff’ — awesome Texas-style BBQ menu, the putting contests, prizes, basketball with new hoops via his grandparents, spontaneous football game in the street and a great mix of people and new friends. We even borrowed a bounce house for the little ones. Everyone enjoyed themselves. One of my true joys in life is watching guests and friends comfortable and happy in our home. Many of you already know this.

I’m here to share that my son truly blew away my heart and spirit in the aftermath of finding frosting and silly string in random places.

For you see, the last few years when he’d blow out the birthday candles I’d end up hearing about his wish – because he’d tell me. I knew his wish had something to do with the ‘large ghost in the room’ that often made him visibly heart-broken. That empty chair that often had no real explanation. And not one that a young child can comprehend.

I didn’t push for an answer, but he knows he can always tell me. In talking about what he wished for this year, he told me, “I didn’t wish for anything this year, Mom. I gave ‘thanks’ when I blew out my candles, because my wish had already come true.” Sigh. Wow.

He went on to explain that his wish was not for those specific aches that I know are holes in his heart or for ‘things that he wants’. His ‘wish’ this year was ‘giving thanks’ as he blew out his candles…if you will. For you see, his wish for a fun and joyful party for his 10th had come true. And all in spite of moving 1,400 miles away from where he was born and raised.

Maybe it’s me, but I haven’t heard such a profound birthday comment from a kid in awhile and confess, I’m one to make a ‘wish’ when I blow out that candle. Sorry, candles. Plural for sure.

I’m obviously proud of this fine 10 year-old young man. I’m proud that at a young age, he’s learning the ‘art of joy’ in the midst of ‘not everything being perfect’.  He’s learning to sing in the darkness or when others are visibly absent. He’s learning that sometimes it’s better to give ‘thanks’ than make another ‘wish’.

I still have much to learn.

Thank you, my son.