if he'd never been born...

christopher had a rough time of it right after he was born.
a ten pound, nine ounce baby boy born mid-afternoon one 
Christmas day, he looked superbly healthy, but he wasn't. 
in less than 24 hours he would be struggling for breath and 
i would be terrified that he would die and powerless to do 
much of anything to stop it.

but he lived, didn't he? he was born and he lives. he was a 
beautiful baby with blonde curly hair and deep blue eyes. he 
was calm and joyful, a happy baby. his older brothers had screamed 
a lot during their infancy, causing me great anxiety and stress. i 
loved them, but they didn't feel like a part of me deep 
down. i knew they were and i loved them with all my self, but i was 
afraid of them, too.

christopher was different right from the first. he was my baby in a 
way the others hadn't been. it was as if i could see, literally see, the 
goodness in him. of course he cried and as he grew older, of course he 
needed correcting and guidance, but there has always been something 
other-worldly about him, something risen and above. he is a better 
person than i am. he made me a better person just having him.

so tonight i was thinking about his life and about how he changed mine 
and i can see, superimposed upon his man's features, the baby he once 
had been. his face hasn't changed much and his spirit, his soul, his heart, 
those haven't changed at all. he is still good, still different, still extraordinary 
in a way i can't articulate, and still he changes my life. 

i want to protect him always. i want nothing bad or hard ever to happen 
to him. i want these things, but just as it was when he was less than 24 
hours old, i am powerless to do much of anything about the difficulties he 
is bound to encounter as he completes his own journey through life. 

i can't write anymore.


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