Thirty years ago today, I was in the hospital meeting my new baby boy. Today I was in the hospital with the same son, but this time, he is the patient. What did he get for this milestone birthday? Surgery. This was not a deliberate plan, it just happened to be the first date available for the removal of his adrenal cyst. Sick and tired of being sick and tired, he was willing to forego a special birthday dinner for clear liquids and the chance of feeling better sooner.
I thought last year's birthday, when his on again/off again wife was no longer part of his life, would be the worst ever. But a few of his friends came over for steak and his 29th turned out tolerably well. And, who knows, over the course of his lifetime, even this year's birthday may not seem so bad. Many things can happen in life that are far worse than surgery.
When Tracy was born, I counted his fingers and toes, making sure all was as it should be. In the following years, I counted on him for many things. I could count on him to love our family traditions and vacations, to help with projects on the house and yard, to see me in all my frailty and not use it against me. And I am counting on many more things in the years to come. I am counting on God to make that happen, because He is the one who makes sure all is as it should be.
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