The Boy's Birthday Wish
The Boy (TB) turned 7 this week. Before blowing out his candles, he paused to make his birthday wish. Under his breath, I heard him mumble, "Mama, Daddy, Sissy, Auntie, and Nunkie." When I asked him about it later he told me that all he wanted for his birthday was what he already had, his family.
I've written before about The Boy's remarkable moments of spiritual maturity. When My Imaginary Friend (IF) reads these stories he warns me about painting the wrong impression. Somehow he seems to think that I need to remind people that TB is not always like this, that sometimes he's a thoughtless, selfish little boy. IF had similar comments when I first posted my remarks from my Dad's funeral. So just for the record: My Dad was imperfect. TB is imperfect.
One of my favorite quotes is from Fr. Alexander Schmeman's last homily: To love is to remember. I've got a little twist on that for IF: Sometimes, to love is to forget.
I've written before about The Boy's remarkable moments of spiritual maturity. When My Imaginary Friend (IF) reads these stories he warns me about painting the wrong impression. Somehow he seems to think that I need to remind people that TB is not always like this, that sometimes he's a thoughtless, selfish little boy. IF had similar comments when I first posted my remarks from my Dad's funeral. So just for the record: My Dad was imperfect. TB is imperfect.
One of my favorite quotes is from Fr. Alexander Schmeman's last homily: To love is to remember. I've got a little twist on that for IF: Sometimes, to love is to forget.
Labels: Dad, My Imaginary Friend, The Boy