Thursday, August 23, 2012


Tomorrow is my son's 15th birthday.  I think of sunflowers as "his" flower, because the place where I went for my midwife appointments during my pregnancy had a giant field of sunflowers next to it, and they were in full bloom the last few weeks before he was born.  I used to grow sunflowers in my yard, and had a glorious crop the summer he was born.  When we brought him home from the hospital, I showed him the sunflowers before I carried him into the house.  I also grew sunflowers the following summer when he turned one.  They bobbed around outside the dining room window, and he was very entertained by them as he learned to sit in his high chair and eat solid food.  I even had a little singing sunflower toy hanging over his changing table.  It played "You Are My Sunshine" when you pulled the cord on the stem.

I was thinking yesterday:  fifteen years before he was born, I was fifteen.  In that fifteen years, I completed high school, moved away to college, graduated from college, moved out of state, worked full time, moved back in state, got married, got a graduate degree, worked again, and bought a house.   Then he was born, and for the past fifteen years, I've mostly taken care of him (and his sister). I spent that fifteen years before him doing everything I could do to be ready for him, and I've spent the last fifteen years enjoying him (and his sister).  How lucky I have been!