Today's my youngest son's 18th birthday. It's amazing for me to think that it was 18 years ago that he came home for the first time and took his place as the youngest of three boys.
That was a tough time for me, right from the start. I came down with an intestinal bug when he was in the hospital and couldn't come and visit him until it was just about time to bring him home. I was also in what was the beginning of problems within my marriage that I was hardly even aware of. It was just a general sadness, which over time grew into an issue that couldn't be fixed.
Peter was my pal as soon as I saw him. He was actually due on Christmas day, but he decided that he couldn't wait that long. Still, I called him my Christmas Angel. He was a gift from above for me, and he's been that way ever since.
When Christmas arrives in a couple of weeks, look around the room that morning. Sure, you'll see your gifts under the tree and hanging from the mantle in stockings, but your real gifts are in the smiles of your family and in the loving messages from your friends.
Happy Birthday, Peter. I couldn't have done it without you. -Dad.
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