Birthdays: Weddings, Babies, & Life

Today is our grand-daughter's birthday. Desiree is 22 today. I vividly remember the day she was born. We were all so excited to have another grand-daughter. She is our son, Shawn's, first and only child. Desiree's cousin, Ashly, had been born to our daughter just 5 months previous. We were so excited that they were the same gender. Girls are so much fun with their cute little clothes, their curls, and their baby dolls. Boys are fun, but in an entirely different way.

Our daughter was excited to watch her big brother and his wife experiencing what she had experienced just months previously. Both of our kids had gotten married within three months of each other and it nearly wiped us out emotionally realizing that both couples were expecting.

When our son announced that they were going to get married, we were quietly concerned because from our view their relationship didn't look like one that invited serious commitment and the two of us think of marriage as deeply serious. So there was speculation that marriage plans were partially prompted because our son worked for an employer that provided wonderful medical benefits.

As a mom who was watching her first-born and only son approaching matrimony, I was cautiously concerned. Getting married for the sake of the children doesn't quite make sense for me. I had been through divorce with my parents, multiple divorces actually. I haven't known of a divorce that hasn't caused someone, if not several someones, gut-wrenching pain. So marriage is a huge endeavor.

On that hot August day when Shawn married Vicki, and Vicki entered the chapel dressed as a gorgeous bride, her mother stood and turned to watch her daughter walk the aisle and all the well-wishers turned to watch too. Across the aisle, Mr. Fun & I stood too, but we didn't turn to watch the bride. From our position in the front pew, we watched our son as he watched his bride. As his eyes filled to overflowing, we saw what was deep inside of our son that we had not previously been privileged to see. Shawn is our quiet reserved child; he keeps much of what he's thinking inside of him. What we saw as the bride moved closer to the front of the chapel fed the hope within us that they could build a special marriage and life for themselves.

Maybe if they could have moved to the other side of the world or the continent, away from all their friends and especially family, they possibly would have had a better chance at not only a marriage that would survive, but one that would thrive. The day their baby was born should have been a great day of bonding for them. We think it would have been, but Vicki's mother took the controlling role in the maturity ward's labor and delivery room.

I'm sure she never even realized that she was usurping Shawn's role of coaching and nurturing his wife through the trauma of that day. We sat in the waiting room watching the frustration our son was experiencing because his mother-in-law wouldn't take a lesser role. They needed space so they could deepen their intimacy and strengthen their relationship.

When the baby was finally born, we were all relieved. The two of us were tickled that she was a brunette. The first time we saw her, she was completely naked with a small gold heart-shaped monitor on her chest checking her vitals. We saw her through the nursery viewing windows. We must have had our noses smashed on the glass; we were so intent on trying to see every inch of her.

Before Des was two years old, her parents were no longer a couple and were rapidly becoming enemies. We thought they had the tools to build a strong marriage. Maybe they did. Possibly they needed more of the "want to." We know that staying married has been the hardest work we've ever done. Pure tenacity and a faith that goes beyond any measure has been required. Numerous times we have had to count to ten and then spell our way to one hundred. Staying married has caused us to believe in miracles. We wish Shawn and Vicki could have had a similar experience.

To report that Des had a tumultuous childhood would be an understatement. She was in the middle of a war that never seemed to end. Her teenage years caused us all sleepless nights as Des rebelled vehemently against any authority. She comes from a long line of us who have rebelled, so we sort of understood what she was doing. A month after she was 18, she had a baby boy. She eventually finished high school.

Today Des is managing on her own, has been living near Oklahoma City for the past 18 months, working for FedEx, and is Tristan's mommy. He will have his fourth birthday February 16th. We miss those two more than words can describe. We look forward to the day when they move back to California. The past two summers we've had the thrill of sharing a week living in the same cabin at summer camp with them.

Today Desiree is 22. So we sent her a birthday card with a gift enclosed that reached her yesterday. She will be getting another one tomorrow; since we could not get mail to her on her Sunday birthday, we thought we'd gift her on each side of the day. She called my cellphone while we were in church this morning and left a voice mail, so we called her back once we got home to wish her a happy birthday. We love her immensely and believe her future is filled with hope and purpose.

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It's been a while since I've written thoughts that are stirring deep within me. It's much more pleasant to write about the clouds, a sunset, the summer sun in California's winter, but this is my "private" journal -- no one in my family reads my blip-page -- today I wanted to record my thoughts on my grand-daughter's journey. Others in the family would surely have a different perspective -- after I am gone, they can read mine.

As I have written this, it's poured rain here in southern California. Rain is a wonderful way of washing clean the world around us. Maybe a blip-page is too.

That's it for the final Sunday in January.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka Carol