Or, as Hank said on Facebook today, "He used to be a baby but now he's a grown-ass man."
I have so many pictures of Owen from when he was little. I was his caretaker when his mama and his daddy were at work and so I had every opportunity to take his picture. And since he was my first grandchild, every breath he took was photo-worthy to me. I must have dozens of him and my beloved rooster Elvis alone. They loved to study each other. They were part of each other's world. I like to think they were buddies.
I want this post to flow and to be a tribute to that boy. The boy who made me a grandmother. The boy who bound his freshly made grandfather to me even tighter as we beheld in wonder the true result of where our love had led.
This was two days after Owen was born. And I love it.
I want to do all of that but it's impossible to truly convey what the day Owen was born meant to me or how he's become such a part of my life and my heart that I can't begin to imagine what my life would be without him. He gave me my grandmother name. He has honored me with his trust and his love and his respect, too. I have watched him grow from the second of his birth to the boy he is now. And I could not love him more.
He has absolutely helped me to define who I am and what my role as an older woman is.
And it has been the most incredible experience and I am going to use this word again- honor- to be a part of his life. To watch him grow and develop and change and learn about the world and to become a loving, intelligent, sweet human being with a style all of his own, a voice all of his own, a life all of his own.
Some of you have read it before.
I think about that day and get a real sense of how that first grandchild pulls tight the knots that bind a family. Before that baby comes, we may all love and cherish and enjoy each other but with the arrival of the child, we are all bound in no uncertain terms to help preserve and nurture the life which has arrived in our midst. And all of my grandchildren are blessed in that our entire family has joyfully accepted that sacred trust.
And it has been a blast.
I called Owen this afternoon and sang him Happy Birthday and if I do say so myself I did a great job of it. I sang with verve and with drama and was mostly in tune. And then I began to cry because that's what I do.
Tomorrow we'll all go out for supper after he gets his ears pierced (at a medical facility!) and the party won't end until Sunday when there's going to be an entire family blow-out to celebrate all of the birthdays from this week.
So happy birthday, Owen Curtis Hartmann! You are nine years old! You are amazing and your life is going to be an amazing adventure and
You are loved!!!!!
Thanks for being my grandson. Thanks for giving me my grandmother name. Thanks for being you.
You are glorious!