My youngest child, my only son, my baby, turned 19 on April 12.
He arrived nineteen years ago on Palm Sunday.
He was 9 lbs, 4 oz. and 19 inches long.
He gazed at the world in wonder when he was born.
He grew in wisdom and grace.
Getting ready to walk (he walked at 8 months)
Playing with his big sister Phoebe
Talking with Marta, a friend visiting from Guatemala
(note, in the background, the busted-out screen.
He and his friends thought it was easier than opening the door.)
At his cowboy birthday party (it was a rootin', tootin' good time)
Always up for a good read
Who was our laundress back then? (...oh, yes, it was me)
Looking very urbane at his First Communion
(Bond, James Bond)
Looking professorial in his new glasses
Always ready for an adventure
(usually this involved exotic trips to garage sales in search of G.I. Joes)
Helping Charles paint a mural at a local middle school
At ten, already a world traveler
(he went to France with Charles to a family wedding)
In 19 years, we went from this
Happy Birthday Miguel!