Abraham,
Today is your first birthday. I have nothing especially profound to say about the way time moves now, just that it does and I ride it as best I can. It's been an amazing time in my life. Before you arrived your Uncle Steve told me that the child makes the man. Yes. And unmakes him from time to time as well. In the last year I have walked the hardest ground and the softest earth. You are a ray of light and everything is illuminated in your shine. And you're just the coolest little dude too.

Today we went to the orchard and picked apples. There were lots of kids and dogs for you to study. For a long time you stood, clutching your Mom's shirt. You stood so tall and free. I gently held your feet in the right position. We have long days ahead to help your feet, but you are ready to run and that will be the sweetest thing ever.

You got some cool books from folks, including a pop-up book about a square-dancing cat that tends to farm chores. You are intent on folding everyone's heads. Momma got you a crazy fast top that spins so quickly that the colors blend and change before your eyes. You got clothes and two plastic tubes that bend into funny shapes and make a eerie whistling noise when spun overhead. You ask us to do this by shaking your pointed finger in a random back-and-forth-semi-circular pattern. This can also mean “Please juggle now,” “Look, a ceiling fan” or “Over-that-a-ways.” We know what you mean.

Happy birthday, my son.

pa-