But I had to get on here and say something about Bright's 8th birthday last week, because hel-lo, 8 is a big year! I remember turning 8. My parents gave me a diary, with a lock and key. Ooh, I felt like such a grown up. I filled those vanilla-colored pages with pencil-printed exclamations of love, friendship, worries, joys, and all the things a 3rd-grader thinks about. That book is priceless to me now.
And my firstborn child, Bright, is priceless to me. I can't believe I am old enough to have an 8-year-old, when it seems like just last week I was scribbling in my little pink diary. It seems like just a few days ago that I was checking in to the hospital in Lexington to give birth for the first time, with our portable CD-player in tow.
So much has happened since I was 8. So much has happened in the last 8 years! There are more memories pinned up on the bulletin board of my heart than I would have thought possible in a lifetime. My son, Bright, lives up to his name in many ways, not the least of which the way he lights up my our home, and our lives, with his sweet, solid, pensive spirit. We love you, Bright! Happy, happy, happy birthday.
(wish I had a picture of the party, but something about a pair of needle-nose pliers, ya da ya da ya da...so here's one of Bright and his daddy looking tough for the camera)
