Happy Birthday

to my son, who is...32. Really?  Really.

Yeah Mom, you really ARE that old!

Shut up.

He's awesome. He really is.  Neither of my kids had exactly idyllic childhoods, there was a lot of Drama at the end of the 80s into the very early 90s, when the computer industry that had employed his father suddenly started stumbling around drunk and throwing up on itself, and we ended up moving to NC, and then barely two years later moved back to FL, to familiar turf, when their father lost his job.

Their father was a tech guy, not an executive.  He was not highly paid and worked long hours, was on the road a lot,  and was often gone for days/weeks, and exhausted when he came home.  Then he lost his job, and it got even more fun.

We did the We-Haul back from NC, and then we bounced around in apartments, our dog boarded with my parents, the kids went to three different school systems in the span of 4 years, and the middle span damn near took my son down for good.   He did NOT have an easy time of it - neither of my kids did.  When your parents are scrambling to keep a roof over everybody's heads and figuring out what the hell they are doing themselves - while it was never truly awful, we did spend several years where life was a seemingly endless stretch of high stakes improvisation. Both kids got the shaft, but he was at the age that feels it hardest, navigating the always challenging path from middle to high school.

He got uprooted from what we had hoped would be a stable, secure environment with good schools and biking to the lake on the weekends, to living in an apartment in a sketchy neighborhood and attending a school where he felt like a band geek gifted kid alien dropped overnight into a tough neighborhood.  (That was one of the things we talked about when he was here last month. He's not bitter, just matter-of-fact.  We both are. It's how it was, we can't change it, and there's no point in dwelling on it or dreaming about do-overs.) 

His father and I were aware of this mess at the time, and scrambled to "fix it" by moving yet again to another apartment back on this side of town, to get back into the school district where they started, where, of course, their friends had gone on their way without any of the drama we'd had.  That, as you can imagine, didn't really help all that much.

I won't go into all the Drama, it's in the past, and it had a happy ending.   His father lived long enough to see him graduate from a good college (with a useless degree).  He's living in a wonderful place, married to a wonderful woman, with a warm, loving second family in his inlaws. Then he got a Masters in something he only sort of uses now and then.  He found his calling in Craft Beer World, and is building his own career his own way, and it's turning out just fine.

They just bought a house, and next month I hope to squeeze a long weekend trip to go see it.  That's our goal, anyway - we talked today when I called to wish him a happy birthday.  (I left a voicemail, because they were hiking in the mountains at the time.)  He called me back late today, and  I said that I want to visit for a long weekend (drive up Thurs., stay three days, drive home Monday) in October, and that gives them incentive to get the guest room put together.  The days may slide around depending on how both our schedules shake out in October, but as of now, that's the plan. 

Happy Birthday my wonderful son - you overcame things that would have knocked a lot of kids down for keeps, and built a life that is truly your own, and is damn near perfect.   Thank you for surviving our very imperfect parenting with style and forging your own unique path.  I love you!

Oh, and you and your sister can both start lying about your ages anytime now.  Really.