Cole (n.) - Victory for the People
9 years ago, at this very hour, I was in labor with you, my first born. It was all so peaceful. There was no frenzy. We were all calm and collected. It was very much the opposite of what we anticipated it being. You arrived quickly. Daddy called Grandma to tell her you were on your way at about 6pm and she said "maybe by tomorrow morning". 6 hours later, you were in our arms. Screaming. Both validating us as parents and making us question our newest calling. You were long and skinny and that black hair, it was wild. Only now can I look at you and know how perfectly it fit you. It was always a perfectly arranged mess. I couldn't make it lay down, but every strand fell in line. A curl every here and there. Random cowlicks to keep the game interesting. It was so very perfectly, Cole. As you grew and your personality developed everyone around you was enthralled. We had an email blast among family called "Cole-isms" that went out every few days. You're quick witted. And hilarious. And way too smart. You know how to work a crowd. It terrifies me. At your third birthday party we asked you to pray before pizza. You tucked your 2nd and 3rd little chins down to your chest and reached your little sausage fingers out to hold your cousins' hand and you prayed, "giggle giggle, snort snort, giggle.....God is great, beer is good and people are crazy. Amen." Granny almost died. Not in comical way. And you enjoyed, for the first time, a captivated audience.
You love to laugh. And you love to think. And you love to have space to think. When you were in daycare you spent MANY days in the office of the director and one day she said "I think he just likes to sit in here and read where it's quiet". You are absolutely my son. And I love you. I love your passion. You've always had this deep, pensive furrowed brow thing happening. It's focus. You're taking it all in. You're figuring out how things work. Daddy always says he can see the hamster running. Don't ever stop doing that. Don't ever stop wanting to know how things work and how to fix them. Don't ever stop thinking and wondering and dreaming and reading and learning. When you were 6 we had to take all of the books out of your bedroom because instead of sleeping at night you would read. For hours. In the dark. With a nighlight. You would sneak into the bathroom and read in there at night for better light. And if you weren't reading, you were organizing your stuffed animals. Or bathing them in handsoap and writing their names on the wall of your bedroom in suds. And even though poor monkey died a painful, sudsy death, don't stop. Don't ever stop creating. Don't ever stop being resourceful, innovative, and original. There will always be someone telling you to stop. Don't.
You are kind and compassionate. Don't ever lose that. The time you got a balloon at the store and we passed a little boy in our neighborhood and you made me go back so you could give your balloon to him, the summer you wrote me a love note almost every day as you watched me struggle with your siblings, the way you prayed for David before his name was David, because you know there are children hurting in the world, the way you lay with Brandy at night and lay hands on her, the way you always, always, always apologize for disrespect, bad attitudes or misbehavior without ever being expected to. Don't ever ever stop being these things.
I love the way you love God. He used you, you know. When you were born, we knew that we wanted to be better for you. You gave us a reason to go back to church. We wouldn't have done it on our own. God used you then and He is using you still. All of the nights when you say "we haven't done Bible study yet". God is using you. It takes character and boldness to speak up. And you have those. Don't ever lose them. I love the way that you are working, so hard, on being a good brother. Cole, I am so proud of you. Zella works your nerves hard some days. And you care for her so beautifully. And this last 16 months has been hard on you. You have lived through a lot of emotions and experiences that many adults couldn't handle. And you've done it. And every morning, on the way to school, when you pray for David to have a good day, even though it's hard for you to do, God sees that. He sees that you're praying for him in spite of your relationship with him. And I AM SO PROUD OF YOU.
This birthday thing is really hard for mom. It's hard to watch you grow up. It's hard and it's amazing. Parenting you isn't always easy. But so many days we get to see the awesome stuff. We get to see that you have been paying attention. We get to see that God is working in your life. We get to see a small glimpse of the incredible man you will be when you're an adult. And we are so blessed by you. We were smitten the first time we saw you. And still smitten two hours later when you hadn't stopped crying since your grand entrance. And still, when you hold my hand, when you curl up on the sofa under my arm, when you kiss me on the forehead, I'm still completely in love. And I hold onto every hand hold, every snuggle, every kiss. I know the days are numbered.
Thinking of you now, as a 9 year old, is completely surreal to me. You're my baby. My work buddy. My sidekick. You are also my inspiration. You are a catalyst. You are magnetic. You're my hand holder. My gentle soul. My scientist. My mathematician. My rule regulator. My time keeper. My number cruncher. My food network, Michael Jackson, praise and worship, Green Bay Packer, How it's Made, Lego, never ever wear jeans cause they're too stiff, love a pair of sweat pants, paper airplane, sketchpad and colored pencils precious boy. You're all of these things, and so many more, and still, my baby. My screaming, wild haired, first born. And you always will be. You will never outgrow my love for you.
When we named you (and trust me, it was a LONG process), we had no idea what your name meant. It wasn't until a while after you were born that we learned your name means "victory for the people". And it's so true. You are our victory. And you will be for so many people in the years to come. God has plans to use you that far exceed any plans of greatness you may have (you know, in case the NFL doesn't work out) and we are so blessed to get to watch them unfold.
Happy Birthday, sweet baby boy. You are loved more than you can ever know.
