|(This photo: Perseida, www.perseida.es Please contact them and see their other fine photos.)|
Daniel, with this being your birth week, I always feel a little but vulnerable this time of year. I compensate by seeing that a good deed or a contribution is made to something you would like, in your name, each year. I also make sure that the family has a good meal on your birthday, and we bake a birthday cake for you. It's a low key party I suppose, and everyone is here for it. I also weather the week by taking on tasks so that I am fairly busy, and this seems to help.
|The Target concrete balls we mention in this post.|
This week James has been asking to go to Target. He hasn't been there in a long time. I must admit, that I don't enjoy trips there as much as I used to. When you were here, I enjoyed the Target experience, and it was one of my favorite stores. After your departure, they redid the Target in the city that we visit, to look something like a structure from "The Jetsons" including big red large concrete balls deposited across the front of the store, presumably to prevent terrorists from driving trucks into the building. Target has also changed their stores. I find I like the clothing, and the color choices of home decor items less than I once did. In any event, James got his opportunity to look there, particularly at the books, the CDs, and the DVDs. They had a fair number of unusual older TV series on DVD. We found a couple of things, and after a visit to the pharmacy for band-aids, we went to the check out. While we were completing check out, there was a little dark haired boy in a cart whose mother was checking out in the staggered check out ahead of us. He was about three, and had that very fair transparent skin which showed some of his blood vessels, as you did when you were very small. As we picked up out bags, he reached out and touched my arm, smiling, and stroked it. "Hi" he said, with a warm smile. "Hello, sweetie", I said. At that point, his poor mother, who had been busy with her purchases looked back to see her little son, stroking the arm of a stranger. "NOOO, she said. Don't touch people !" It was one of those innocent moments where one human being connects for a moment with another. I was reminded in that moment, that the day you departed from Earth did not mean that all innocence, and sweetness was gone. Kind gentle, beautiful kids still remain on Earth, and oddly, for some reason, they seem to RECOGNIZE ME, and for some reason, acknowledge me.
The other gift in that moment, is that James, as the result of having been less than nurtured as a small child, historically does not enjoy small children. They apparently remind him of a time in his life in which he was powerless and unhappy. This time was different. "Hello Buddy !" he offered as the child decided I was a nice lady, he would like to meet and talk to. Knowing that James is beginning to relate more normally to small children, is a gift in itself.
I don't know why small children fixate on me, touch me and say hello, since your departure. If you have anything to do with it, then I thank you. It does remind me of the special and memorable times we spent together, before you grew up to be the fabulous brilliant young man you became here. Happy Birthday, you incredible kid !