Happy Birthday, Benjamin Davis!

In so many ways I cannot believe it's been 4 years, buddy. But when I look back at how much you've changed, all of the stages you've gone through...and oh my goodness--the sweet little boy you've become, I can feel that much time has passed.

They say that our personalities are, in large part, written from the beginning...and with you, I've always known this to be true. I won't lie, buddy, you came out in a bit of a state...not so sure you were ready to be here, a tad cranky from time to time (hrrmph), and easily rattled. But from the minute you came into the world, you're daddy and I have been transformed...for the better. Because that strong sense of uncertainty and nervousness that you had at birth gave way to a remarkably sensitive, cautious, discerning, and beautiful spirit.

You are, no doubt, a true blend of your mom and dad. When people look at you, they immediately see your father. And in so many of your mannerisms, this comes through even more. Last night at Red Robin you were unusually quiet and unanimated...you weren't even eating much of your food. And once I thought about it, I knew--you were waiting to get the singing and clapping waitress routine out of the way. Last year it frightened you and made you cry...this year you wanted to get through it..so you were bracing yourself. You made it through with a half smile and a few mildly enthusiastic claps of your own...and once they planted down that sundae, you pushed it aside and finally dove into your mac and cheese. A broad smile across your face, your whole demeanor changed. While part of me wanted to cancel the whole birthday singing fiasco altogether, my wiser self told me to let it just happen...and it proved to be yet another milestone. Not a major one--and to some mommies and daddys--not one of any significance at all. But you are your father's son, and the deep sensitivity and cautiousness with situations like these is never lost on me. And I'm so grateful to see that beautiful part of your daddy living in you.

From day one, I've seen myself in you...and while I may have been--and still am--the only one, it's been unmistakable. For one, you bear a strong resemblence to your Grand Colonel (your mommy's grandpa)...which is fitting, as your middle name is a tribute to him. But when you laugh hysterically, spontaneously express affection, or even show concern for the most minor of things--ranch dressing on your sleeve, toothpaste on the side of your cheek, or the general routine of things...I know you are my boy. And I love how this sensitivity also shows up in your concern for others. You told me the other day, in fact, that "all the boys" from your preschool class should come to your party, because you didn't want any of them to feel left out. Last night at Red Robin, after you settled into your true self, you casually asked your Papa how old he was going to be (you share birthdays) as you dug into your sundae with your spoon. When Papa said "65", you did that low, hearty half-laugh, half-giggle of disbelief and said (out of the corner of your mouth while taking a bite), "Huh...wow, Papa...that must mean you're getting a LOT of presents!!!"

I so love you, Bubby. For your gentleness, the sensitvity of your little soul, the hugeness of your heart, and the purity of your spirit. You are a treasure.
Happy Birthday, Sweet Boy...I love you with all my heart--and "to the moon and back"!