On surprises

I remember feeling it in Jacksonville. 

It was a sultry southern summer evening -- the kind when you can actually see the air, and its dense moisture slaps you in the face and leaves a wet smear on your cheeks and forehead as soon as you walk outside.

Papa and I sat beneath a canvas umbrella on the patio of a neighborhood restaurant. I sipped an unsweet iced tea and salivated over burgers on the menu.

I looked across the table at Papa, cradling our tiny newborn Calvin in the crook of his strong, curving arm.

Then I looked over at Lili, then 2, balancing on the tip-toes of her summer-white sandals to peer over the deck railing at a stray kitten searching for thrown-away french fries.

I considered Lili's curls, Calvin's curled-up legs and arms and Papa's strength and I felt it wash over me.

Contentment. Gratefulness. The feeling that everything just might be perfect.

And later, I felt it again in Coronado.

The four of us were at the beach. The orange sun was dipping into the Pacific as I spread a picnic dinner of quinoa salad, romaine spears and juice boxes over a blanket.

Lili was almost 4 and Calvin almost 2 and they were hard at work scrambling to the top of a sand dune, then tumbling down the other side, all the while avoiding unexpected tickle attacks from Papa.

I settled into that moment to do the math: One happy husband, one delightful daughter and one sprightly son. Happiness. Life seemed perfect. I couldn't have imagined anything more.

But there was more. Unbelievably, unexpectedly there was so much more. There was you.

With Midas' curls.

With eyes the deep amber of late-season maple syrup.

With long fingers that like to point to the moon, to the Christmas lights we drive past and to the squirrels that play on our lawn.

With wide, pillowy pink lips that utter the cutest phrases:

"Jinja bells, Jinja bells, awa awa way!"

"Wook! Papa's hairplane."

"I wuwoo mama."

Strong-willed, intense, tough, sweet, silly, artistic, articulate, messy, loud, left-handed, tall, sturdy and oh, so, loved.

Happy 2nd birthday, my darling boy! May you always, always be open to life's surprises, because they often lead you to a life that is far better than you could have ever imagined.