Birthdays

Today begins the three-days of birthdays-in-a-row in our family:

Today, my first grandson, Jackson, turns 12.  Tomorrow, I turn 65.  On Tuesday, Jackson's mother and my daughter, Day, turns 42.

I am doing what grandmothers do: remembering the day that Jackson finally arrived, and I was in the hallway outside the room to hear his first cry!  I am remembering how proud his parents were of him that day, and that his paternal grandparents were standing with me in the hallway, all of us teary with joy.  I am remembering that I called my parents to tell them they had a great-grandson in Virginia.

Of all the things that happen in a boy's or girl's life, their parents and grandparents have certain stories they tell over and over again--possibly to the chagrin of the child.  I have pages and pages of Jackson stories I could write, but here's one of my favorites:

When I went to stay with Jackson when Marcus was born, he liked to be read to before bed.  He'd start in the morning deciding who "got to" read to him, and that person was pronounced the "Winner" of the Jackson contest.  At the same time, he hated any books that involved a character "getting in trouble."Even if one of the Berenstein Bears caused mischief, we had to close the book.

One night, (when I was the winner), he reached for a Bible story book beside his bed and asked me to read that story about the big boat and all the animals, two by two.  I noticed his face falling at a certain point and he adamantly insisted that we stop reading.  He thought he'd picked a safe story, no trouble, but when trouble sneaked in and entered the story, we had to close that book.  "Is there any story in that book where nobody gets in trouble?" he asked.

I couldn't--actually--think of any.
The next day, Day told me that she always skipped the part about "God destroying the whole world."

One of my current favorite memories of Jackson is this: when they come to Texas, he's always the one who wants to go with me to get a morning coke.  He loves to ride together down Broadway, then stop in at Central Market to get chocolate rocks--candy that looks exactly like little river stones.  When we ride, he tells me things and asks questions, always with a unique perspective on the world, trouble and all.