My baby boy, Mark, will be sixty years old on April 30th, 2014. When he was born, I couldn't believe he weighed nine pounds. His 'big' sister, Terry, was only six pounds and nine ounces when she was born. Mark was a placid baby - it still takes a lot to rile him.
When he was a teenager, I recall asking him to mow the grass for his dad and trim around the edges of the many oak trees on our property. He eventually got around to mowing the lawns but when a pal drifted by on his motorbike - off they went together - trees left untouched!
Many years later, himself a homeowner, it was a different story. His grass was always neatly cut and edges trimmed. He even dug up some threatening dandelions from a neighbor's boulevard (although I suspect Carol was involved in that project).
Speaking of trimming - I used to trim his hair until he began to object - a bribe of ten cents allowed me to complete the task. I remember when he returned from a trip to Britain with the Kitsilano Boys Band - he looked like one of the Beatles...
Now where has all that hair gone?
Mark was a very loving child - as a little guy he often hugged me with great abandon.
And he loved to dress up and go out with his family.
Only a few years later when we gathered to see him off to march with his school band in the Victoria Day parade he was most embarrassed simply by our presence...
Only a few years later when we gathered to see him off to march with his school band in the Victoria Day parade he was most embarrassed simply by our presence...
Many years later, however, he seemed proud to take his mother out for Mother's Day brunch atop the Chateau Victoria, and several years after that he sent me a birthday card which he made from a copy of the picture taken of the two of us together on his wedding day.
Inside was the loveliest note from him which I treasure:
He is a wonderful son and we are so proud of him and his growing family.
I like to feel we had a hand in shaping and preparing him for the man he has become and we are pleased he has grounded himself with his newly found faith and thus grown closer to his sister.
Happy Birthday to My Baby Boy!
