A bird, a birthday.

One for sorrow

Two for joy

Three for a girl

And four for a boy


Today is my last 4th birthday. My boy. My darling boy.

I mark it with joy, overwhelming joy at how fortunate I am in this life. By accident or design, I have everything I need. Sorrow is here too – for the passing of time, for the moments left behind, and for the loss of the years gone past. But mostly, it’s joy – for my girl, for my boy.

Time is a bird, with feathers light and soft. It brushes my face with its wings, which beat the air with a firm, steady pulse. This bird will not be caught. We can look, but never keep. It passes us by, singing in the evening sun the songs of our hearts as we follow it into the air, unknown.

What future for you, my children?

One filled with birthdays, and sweet cakes and laughter and love, I hope.

Happy birthday, my beautiful son.




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