On his sixth birthday, Berkeley, CA.
He skipped the entire distance from midway through the school yard and down the street to our trusty steed. That crown’s his teacher’s handiwork, bless those amazing, amazing people.
Much afoot of late. Same day this chap turned six, his grandfather, whose name he bears from the middle on out, took a spill and wound up back in the ER at the local hospital, whence he had not a few days before exited, post-minor stroke. That same night, yrs truly promptly fell ill with The Influenza, which is only juuuuust beginning to saunter off, stage left. Accursed thing. Pops is more or less stable now, “salad speech” pretty much a head-scratching artifact of the past. Though the memory, shaky to begin with, is notably diminished and diminishing. Cheery spirit still intact, lard love him.
And the boy? He’s wearing six very, very well. Qoth A. A. Milne, back in 1927, when his grandfather had just turned six:
When I was one,
I had just begun.
When I was two,
I was nearly new.
When I was three,
I was hardly me.
When I was four,
I was not much more.
When I was five,
I was just alive.
But now I am six,
I’m as clever as clever;
So I think I’ll be six now
for ever and ever.
Happy, happy, birthday to your beautiful boy–and happiness to your whole family for those 6 wonderful years together.
And lots of wishes for recovery flowing to you and your dad.
Thank you, Susan. Your warmth is so very much appreciated.
Well, how did those six years go by so rapidly and with such joy and love flowing thru and yet–so much has changed that it is hard to believe, isn’t it ?~!
Glad Pops is recovering from his fall. The scariest moments in my adult life have been those milliseconds between when you know you’re headed down and the actual landing itself. May the Universal Healing Power swoop in and repair any residual issues for Grandfather. We need him still…
Yes, indeed. So fast, so much transformed. And yes: I hope for the very best for Pops, whatever that turns out to be for him. I’m not ready for him to go anywhere just yet.
Oh god, so sweet. I need to extend that little poem by 12 more years and then figure out a way to get my practically-a-grown-man to wear a birthday hat and let me take his picture.
SK