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Flashback Friday - Happy Birthday

Tomorrow is Brendan's birthday.  

His birth day was a little like his life so far.  Rollicking, chaotic, scary and premature.  He didn't cry when he came out like most kids, and the staff took him toward the back room and huddled around.  For a couple young parents that's a tough thing to see.  They never did get him crying, I don't think.  Typical Brendan, never let them see you be typical.   He stayed at the hospital for a couple weeks afterwards in a plastic cage.  I think that was the last time anyone ever really told him what to do.
  

He eventually got out of that cage and came to live with his family.  Then he started to amaze me.  Back when he was a kid he amazed me with his ready smile and loving disposition.  We were buddies.  As a father that is a kind of pinnacle, but it is also precarious.  As he entered school he began to develop his own way of doing things.  His father loved school, and had no problem assimilating.  Dad's whole existence was to meld, seamlessly, without fuss into the fabric of safety and security of society.  Rock no boats, make no waves. 




Classes?  Hell I'd still be in school, hopefully as far back as possible, if I could have figured out a way to make money sitting in hard back chairs taking notes and nodding dutifully to puffed-up professors.  


But Brendan amazed me in that he didn't like the world of classes, and tests, and homework.  He had his sights on other things, vastly more enjoyable, with a passion I could only dream of.  He played in a world of make-believe, with good guys, bad guys and knights who fought with loyalty, service and courage.  I was amazed that he wasn't just like me.  There is a scene in E.T where Elliot and his alien friend separate from being bonded.  Brendan and I separated too.  





I pushed for homework, he pushed for acceptance.  Neither of us were wrong, of course, but we couldn't see it at the time.  We created a chasm of sorts while he went his way, and I tried to reel him back into what I thought he should be.  Poor stupid, Mike.  Might as well try to breath with gills, some spirits are just too hard to hold onto.  


I wanted him to be a little Mike, just like me.  He wanted to be Brendan.  Turns out, he won.  I'm not sure at which moment we bonded back together.  Perhaps it was the daily letter I wrote for him while he was in Boot Camp.  Perhaps it was one of the times he flew back to the US from duty in Iraq.  Perhaps it was when he realized I was just an ordinary guy, struggling with faults of my own.  You see, he had become a knight.  That character which he played during weekend sessions with the rest of the AMPTGARD guys at Lake Story.  He wasn't playing, he was auditioning.  


My son, who fought me to be his own guy, had become what he wanted after all.  Protector of the weak at Galesburg High School, defender of the defenseless.  And then Private, U.S. Army.  


Today, Brendan does his thing in Saint Petersburg.  We meet often.  Any remnants of the separation thing long ago has been healed with time and reflective comments of absolution.  I honestly can't wait to see him again.  He always treats me kindly, with respect, and with a touch of gentleness.  His easy laugh and ready smile remain and he is a genuinely good soul.  He is whip smart witty, thoughtful and, yes, knightly.  I still wish he had been more conventional, more meld than rebellion, but the world does not have enough guys like him.  Me, we are a dime a dozen, but people like him are special.  He will never be friendless, he is a magnet for others, but society isn't always kind to its knights, and sometimes I worry.  But I'm a parent.  I'm his Dad.  Love you, son.


Happy Birthday Brendan   



     

Comments

  1. Great post. You have written many posts I have enjoyed but none as wonderful and touching as this one. Your best ever!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Parenting .... The toughest job you'll ever love. You did good. Both of you. Happy Birthday Brendan!

    ReplyDelete

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