On August 1, 2002 at 3:31pm you made your appearance with barely a sound. I couldn’t see you, but your Lulu could and she says to this day that she was so frightened for you because you were blue and not making any noise. But you perked right up and began to cry lustily after the first couple of minutes.
Of course, you just had to go and get jaundice – but I must say that you were the prettiest yellow baby I’d ever seen. Each time we took you back to the hospital for light therapy, you would cry as though the world was coming to an end. I think it almost did for me. That was a heart-wrenching thing for a mama to watch — the nurses would poke your little heel with a needle and squeeze and squeeze until enough blood was out for a culture.
Thankfully, you finally decided enough was enough, you’d had all you could stands and you weren’t going to stands you no more. So you got over the jaundice and we were finally able to enjoy having you at home without the daily hospital trips.
These days, you’re a little too smart for your own good…you can read many things by sounding words out and you love to write letters to folks. (even if you don’t get all the letters in the right places – your earnest heart is what’s so sweet).
You love to break things just so you can show me you’re able to fix them. (We’ll talk about my mp3 player later, son).
You are a superhero part of the time and a preacher the rest. If you aren’t rescuing one of your sisters, you’re telling them exactly what their character flaws are and how they can get right with Jesus.
You recently told me that you want to have 100 jobs when you grow up. But the top three that you want to be are a preacher, business owner, and a toy maker in a factory. Those are mighty fine and lofty goals, son.
You have a tendency to be rough in your play, but your littlest sister looks up to you and would go to the ends of the earth for you, as would your older sister.
You’re the only boy in our family, and we’re so thankful for you – you are the last of our line.
The last to carry on our family name on your daddy’s side.
Finish well, son.
But for today? Enjoy six.
You are a daily reminder that life is waiting to be lived to the fullest.
Think I’ll go an enjoy it with you now.
Happy Birthday, AJ.
Love, Mom xoxo