Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Happy Birthday Brian!

This Saturday is my son's 26th birthday. "Where did those years go?" I have been asking myself. I flash back to a little skinny blond haired boy with a huge smile and sparkling blue eyes running around a soccer field. Brian always had a ball or bat in his hands since the moment he was co-ordinated enough to hold either. His second birthday gave him a plastic golf club set. He drove my mother crazy as he ran through her home hitting everything in site. Look out if you were in his way. Brian was NOT the calm child - he was very very active, bouncing from one person to the other, crashing the bottom of his crib into the floor and making all of us tired by the end of the day. I remember the day his friend came running to the door screaming that Brian was hurt badly. He had been riding his bike and drove head first into a cable box. I found him sprawled on the front lawn grass of a neighbour's house. The skin on his legs and arms , torn open bleeding and oozing. That was not the first time his injuries had my stomach doing flip flops. There was the time he was playing soccer and another kid playing overkilled on his kick and instead of just kicking the ball, got Brian directly in the eye. Within one minute (no exaggeration) Brian's eye and forehead was extended double the size with a deep colour of blue/purple bruising. Then there was the time he was coming home from school running through the school yard (on February's solid ice) and slipped, fell backwards and came home with an egg size lump - again purple/blue/red blood colour.

Brian was just not a vehicle for accidents, he was so cute. His hair was white blond, he was tall and tanned and absolutely adorable. His sense of humour was always evident. I miss the little boy but love the big man he's become. His sense of humour is still there, his white blond hair has changed into mousy blond. I don't get the hugs I used to and he no longer asks me to tickle his back....but he's the awesome wonderful person he's always been.