A Special Day for A Special Son

My children were all fun, each one with different things that made me smile, but today is the day celebrating my son's birth. It's a strange set of circumstances.

For example, my son's birthday is 10-10-10, which is interesting enough, but there is another factor. October 2010 has some things that won't happen again for 823 years: the month of October of this particular year has five Fridays, five Saturdays, five Sundays.

One of our earliest pictures of Cles was in what we called a "bean-bag chair." It was large and black and contained materials that kept it full enough for an adult to sit on it. Cles took naps in the chair we owned.

This was the first birthday celebration that Cles had. He grinned broadly.

I remember taking this picture in my parent's house on Bannock Street in Malad, and the light was quite dark in the room. I took the picture with my Rollei 35, a camera I still have.

But the camera is just a thing. The clothing in the wagon probably went to other cousins or friends the same age. That's what you did at that time. The wagon is something we sold at a garage sale. I regret that now, and felt so badly, that I bought a similar one from an Amish store in Ohio. They shipped it.

Taking care of the original would have been much cheaper.

And where would life be without remembering this plastic horse. When Cles or Lydia lifted the yello reins, the horse would whinny. A clopping sound soon began, kind of like the noise that the Monty Python group did in Search for the Holy Grail.

Through the years, some things never change. Cles always had a way of making all of us smile, although occasionally his teasing went over the line.

I'm not sure where he learned that skill. I think his mom did that.

But life is full of great memories, of times when unfortunately, you never really appreciate moments that are great. Those moments are the times we spend together, enjoying conversation, telling stories, playing board games.

My dad and I never made Cles a cowboy, but he--like each of my children--had a way of getting into our hearts. And one essential thing he taught me and the rest of us was this: never for a moment think about being a fan of Duke.

He made sure that he made each of us tar heel fans. Seeing this game was one of those classic moments, and he still makes the attempt to turn my grandchildren into UNC fans too. Ultimately, he makes every effort for us to bleed tar heel blue.

So on your birthday, we didn't send a card, but I am sending this greeting with one last picture of me wearing my UNC Santa hat. I figure if stores can begin stocking Christmas items shortly after Labor Day, I can wear my blue Santa hat any time.