My Son, Dan

The other night while lying in bed my husband and I were talking about the upcoming birthday of our son, Dan.

We haven’t seen Dan for 4 1/2 years because he is living in Northern Ireland with his family.  But each year around the holidays and his birthday we often reminisce.  Dan was our fourth child and 2nd boy.  He was my biggest baby, but quickly settled into being the tiniest of little guys…at least till he hit his growth spurt sometime around his twelfth year.

Dan was such fun as a little guy.  He was full of vim and vigor and was such a happy baby.  One morning shortly before our fifth was born, Dan had crawled into bed with my husband and I and we took turns tickling him and making him squeal.  I remember that morning so vividly because we wondered aloud how we could every love another baby as much as we did Dan.  We knew we could because we already loved three others, but sometimes there are those moments when everything seems right in the world and you are just happy.  That was one of those moments.

As Dan grew older he took on more personality.  He was an old soul…loving music from Frank Sinatra’s era.  He worked several paper routes for the Caledonian Record while we were in St. Johnsbury, VT, and worked so hard at getting new customers that he won a trip to Disney World with the paper.

Dan used to ride his bike all over town.  One time I went into a hardware store and the man asked if I was Daniel’s mom because he was so impressed that he had ridden his bike down to buy a rake so he could make money raking people’s lawns.  He went through a duct tape stage at one point in his teenagerhood.  He ended making wallets and purses and eventually made himself a coat.  It was too cool.

He went through a duct tape stage at one point in his teenagerhood.  He ended making wallets and purses and eventually made himself a coat.  It was too cool.

Dan sang.  A lot.  When he was little he would sing so loud in church that people would turn around a smile.  He had a joyful heart and it was a joy to hear him sing.  Often as I was getting breakfast or school things ready in the morning I would hear him…and know he was awake because the music started.  I loved that about mornings.

So now as he turns another year older very far away from us…I am thankful for the years we had with him.  He was a good boy and he became a good man, husband and father.  Happy birthday, Dan.

 

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