Tuesday, April 17, 2012
The Real Strength Always Lies On The Bottom
Some eight years, a Bachelor's degree, three years into a Masters degree, teaching children nearly his younger brothers age the art of the English word and how to write it, and twenty plus publishing's later....he is big enough that you can't hurt him.
His novel will hopefully be ready for publishing sometime in 2013, his thesis will be ready upon graduation the same year. His students will have been the better for knowing him. Learning from him. For listening to him create new ways to talk, to listen, and to write. For teaching them to open their minds, their hearts, and their souls so that the words inside of them can come out, where they belong. On paper. And maybe, one day, in books.
From the minute I became pregnant, I knew, my baby would be someone special. Of course, every mother knows the same thing I suppose, but I knew. And it never changed. His teachers were telling me as early as kindergarten how special Joshua was going to be. I would smile, nod my head, and think, of course he is.
In junior high and high school when he was so obviously on a different track from everyone else, I knew, he would make it. Even when he wasn't sure himself. He was trying so hard to find his way, to find what he needed, to be who he needed to be. But it wasn't without struggle, without opposition, or conflict.
♫ You with your words like knives and swords and weapons that you use against me, you have knocked me off my feet again♫
People fight what they don't understand. What makes them jealous. What they think they cannot possibly be. What scares them. Unbelievable, controlled strength that comes from people they cannot identify with. People make fun of, pick on, and bully those whose standards they cannot rise to.
I hope I had something to do with the strength within my son. I hope the strength in our home was part of how he was able to prevail. To stand up to the hate, the jealousy and the disrespect to him as a human being.
He's twenty six years young today. There is so much left for him to do. To be. In a few weeks, he will be living another dream. A trip to London is in store. He will finally be able to see what he has only read about. Dreamed about. The storybook pictures will become real and colorized, right before his very eyes. The words from the hundreds of books long ago read will jump off the pages. The voices will now have accents only imagined before. All because a boy dared to dream. Dared to demand what he deserved. Dared to be denied, no matter the cost to himself.
Happy Day of Birth to my first baby boy. Everything I ever wanted for you, you have already achieved, and more. It has been my absolute privilege to be a part of your life. To stand on the sidelines and watch you grow into a man. Into yourself. Into what you always knew you were meant to be. You have just stepped into the 2nd quarter century of your life. I cannot imagine what all you will accomplish in the next twenty five years. Even the sky has never been the limit for you, I know that will not change now. Go forward and continue to show the world who you are and what you can do.
I'll share a little secret with you. It never really was a dream, because you always knew it would come true.