I keep talking about my sons, and why not? They are wonderful men, completely transformed by life and on their own journey. I see glimpses of me in them, the way they lean forward and gesture during conversations or how they tease with a sidelong glance. Their dad is present in their charming good looks. Grandpa and Uncle Don's adventurous, playful side is there, and a daredevil spirit which I'm convinced Tim recycled through the family.
What I am most glad for is knowing I contributed to a home that gave them freedom to be themselves. They are as dissimilar in their style, interests and temperaments as brothers could be. But all are bound by a sense of right living and honest effort. All are smart, and interesting to talk to, stubborn and proud. It's a joy to watch them succeed, or face and solve challenges and talk things over with me when the time is right.
My favorite images will always be of three endearing little boys perched around the diningroom table on phone books or tucked under blankets on the sofa for storytime. It's not about running the herd anymore, or keeping them safe, clean, and filled with food. Now it's about finding a way to show them how much faith I have in them and how much they are loved.
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