He came here with his days and nights mixed up. That makes for a tired mom, but, oh he was so worth the fatigue. He is the one, being my first child, who taught me what it means to be selfless. He is who taught me that no longer did my or Mr. Lincoln's needs come first. There were times when he was older that we failed him in that regard. Because of selfishness, we did not see signs of pain and cries for help. But, as is his nature, he has forgiven us those failures. When I look back on his baby days, it is with sweet joy.
He had a way of getting into things. When he was about 20 months old or so, I put him down for a nap. I was pregnant with his sister, and I was tired, so I laid down to nap as well. After a few minutes of "resting" I saw Marshall out of the corner of my eye. I did not have my glasses on , but I could see well enough to tell that something was awry. Yep, he had painted himself with black shoe polish. I figured that no way had he kept the polish confined to himself. I was right. The walls in his bedroom, his sheets, a little trampoline like toy were all covered. It was not-so-lovely abstract art.
He could swim to the bottom of the deep end of a pool and grab rings...when he was about a year old. Once at swim lessons, he walked to the end of the board and decided he did not want to go off. His teacher let him walk off the board. I knew in my heart that was not good, so I went to him, walked with him on the board, dropped him off the end into the arms of his teacher. I told her that he did not ever have to go off the board again, but he could not walk to the end and then back off. I did not want him to feel he had failed. He has thanked me for that on several occasions. I paid for that many times over, however, because until he could really swim, he often jumped in the pool, stood on the bottom, eyes wide open, counting on someone to come rescue him. One of my sweetest memories of him as a baby is him sleeping on a raft floating in the pool..for hours. Most of my other friends' children could not sleep at the pool. Marshall did not sleep all that well in bed, but he slept great in the pool.
As he grew, he became quite fearless. I do not know what unsuspecting child may have been teased by the snakes he is holding, but I am fairly certain someone was. I think he had 12 pairs of glasses in the first year of wearing glasses. Thank goodness for warranties. After that, every time he would break his glasses, we just cut the lenses down to fit new frames. He started out with Harry Carey style glasses and ended up with John Lennon style.
He could ride a bike with no hands. I distinctly remember his riding down our backyard standing on the seat.
In second grade he had a wonderful teacher that he and I both just loved, but sometimes, she would mispronounce words. Once she was giving out spelling words and pronounced the word "debt" as "debit." Marshall tried to help her understand the proper pronunciation of the word. I was called into school, and told that she did not appreciate a second grader correcting her in class. What's a mother to do? I told her that I would talk to him, but that he was right.
Marshall is color blind. I believe the most upset Mr. Lincoln ever was with a teacher is when Marshall got an F on a coloring page in 3rd grade. It was a picture of Jubilee Hall. He colored everything in the picture either orange or red...the people, the building, the trees, the grass. Did he know that is what he had done? I do not know. It is the sort of subtle rebellion of which he was capable, like the time he rearranged the books in the library at school because he was displeased with the librarian's way.
I look at this picture and my heart just overflows with love for this man. There are so many things about him that I respect. He is highly intelligent, and I know he (and MP) must grow weary with the inane questions with which Mr. Lincoln and I can bombard him. He is creative. He is meticulous in his work. When, in elementary school his goal was always to be the first finished no matter how poorly the work might have been, I would never have dreamed what a perfectionist he would become. He is strong...as an ox...as stubborn as one at times too. Once when he and I went riding on his four-wheeler (SO MUCH FUN), we got on a hill in an awkward position. He gently helped me off, and then just man-handled that thing until we could ride on.
He is a creative thinker. If something does not work the first time, he jumps in to find another way to solve that particular problem. He can fix a car or turn a delicate wooden bowl on a lathe. He has a wonderful sense of humor. That is part of the thing that got him into trouble at school. He sees the ironies in life. When we took glass blowing classes, part of what we did was lampwork. He has the finesse for the delicate lampwork as well as the brawn needed for the more taxing glass blowing. He is so generous. He is forgiving. He is a deep thinker, and yet, giggles at some sophomoric humor. He introduced us to Arrested Development, 30 Rock, and The Office. I always want him to be on my team for Trivial Pursuit, for while he might poke fun at my answers, I can almost always count on him to know the right answer. I do not see him as much as I would like. Life gets busy and hectic. He can, also like his mother, be somewhat anti-social at times and just needs to have no obligations for a while. He is kind. Last year in Sanibel when I could not ride bikes or go on the boat because of my back surgery, he actually rode around the island with MP, Sheri, and me on a foot-pedaled surrey with fringe on top. He did that for me. It was great fun, and I laughed and loved every moment of it. He has a deeply spiritual side, and I think at all times a part of his mind is on some other plane.
Is Marshall perfect? Like the rest of us, he is not. But, I would not trade him. He has brought me great joy, great growth, much laughter, much time in self-analysis, some heartache, lots of excitement, and many, many happy times. I love him. He is my son. When he was born, for the first time, I had some inkling of the Father's love for me.
So, for today, I wish you much love in birthday remembrances and
blessings
No comments:
Post a Comment