Happy Birthday To Jason Who Is A Good, Good Man

Today is my son-in-law's birthday. The man who calls me "Mom" whom I did not give birth to. The man who makes my daughter's life such a sweet one. The man who is the father of my grand baby.

He is twenty-five years old today and I am so proud of this man.

Jason grew up without a daddy, mostly. His father was killed by a drunk driver when Jason was very young and he was raised by his mother and he had some big boots to fill, Jason did. His dad had been a police officer and as happens when someone dies, those boots got bigger and bigger as time went on. But this is what I think- the man who wore those big boots would be mighty proud of this son of his.
Mighty proud.
Just as Mr. Moon and I are.
He works so hard and he's such a good father and a good husband. He's a quiet sort, Jason is, but he's funny and he's strong.
I'll never forget how strong he was for Lily when she was having Owen. Throughout all that long, long labor he was there for her with every contraction. She would beckon him with a gesture and he would go to her, hold her, rub her, breathe with her, kiss her. I watched and I learned what a good, good man he is.
And then when Owen got here- well, I've never seen a man take so naturally to being a daddy. On the days when Jason opens at the store where he works and comes to get his boy from me when he gets off, I know he's exhausted. But he comes to the door with that sweet Elvis (the singer, not the rooster) smile on his face and then Owen sees him and they both light up like Christmas. Owen grabs for his daddy's hat and it's a game they play and Jason takes him in his arms and Owen cuddles in. He loves his daddy who has probably changed more poopy diapers already than Mr. Moon ever did which is not in insult to Mr. Moon- it's just the way things were and are and isn't that a lovely thing? And it's so good for Owen to know in such a visceral way that his daddy loves him and tends him so gently, so well.



Ah. This man. This man who came to be part of our family. Who loves my daughter, who, at his wedding to her, danced a mean, mean Billie Jean, who cried when he said his vows, who calls my husband "Dad," who has learned to hunt from him and who is going to go fishing with him this weekend, who tends the yard of the house he and Lily have bought, who changes the diapers, who loves his son, who makes us laugh so hard when we play silly board games, who is serious and who is funny, who on his days off tends the baby and vacuums the carpets and mops the floor and makes the dinner.
This man I am so proud of. So proud to call "Son."

Happy birthday, Jason. You are a Superman to me and will always be to your son.


I know that. I know that you are going to help him grow up and you are going to be there to show him how to be a man- the kind, gentle, strong kind of man- who will one day himself wear the big boots.

You yourself are wearing those boots well. I know your mother is proud of you and I know your daddy would be too. There is no doubt in my mind about that.
And there is no doubt that we love you, this new family you have become such a beloved part of.

You have become son, brother, husband, father and you fit in this family like beans in rice. And we are so glad you have.

See you in a little while when I come to pick up that boy. I wish you didn't have to work on your birthday but you do and I doubt you'll complain. That's the way you are. And we sure do like the way you are. Happy, happy birthday.

Love....Mom