Looking Through Diamonds

One day last week, a good-looking man dressed in army fatigues walked right into my house, smiled at me and gave me a great, big bear hug.

It had been far too long since I'd last seen my boy, having not had a leave pass since early August. Jeffrey attends RMC (Royal Military College) in Kingston, Ontario, where he is acquiring both his university education and the military training that will sculpt him into an Officer in the Canadian Armed Forces.

He visited for a few days between exams and will be back again on Friday for three weeks, during which time we'll catch up, and settle into our old roles of Mom and son. I'll cook his favourite meals. He'll eat enough for three. I'll ask him if he's dressed warmly enough. He'll roll his eyes at me and nod. I'll remind him to drive carefully. He'll allow me to believe that he's the only driver on the road. I'll tell him that it's good to have him home. He'll try to avoid talking about how one day, in the not-so-distant future, he will be deployed - quite possibly to Afghanistan.

From the time he was a newborn, twenty years ago, I'd heard warnings from other parents, to enjoy this time while it lasted because it flies by all too quickly. They all spoke the truth. Jeffrey seemed to grow from infancy and training pants, to the infantry and training with weapons in a misty blink of an eye.

Last month I wrote about my younger son, Alex. Prompted by a semi-regular visit inside the pages of his baby book, I posted some of the memorable things that he said though his early years. Of course, I have a similar book for Jeffrey, and this week, between visits, it seemed like a right time to flip through the pages of his childhood. His too, includes the letters that I wrote to him on each of his first several birthdays, covering the previous year's events.

Here are a few excerpts from my letters to Jeffrey.

Third Birthday:

• On a particularly difficult behaviour day, I asked you why you weren't listening to anything I'd said. With a most serious and thoughtful look in your eyes, you explained. "Well, some childrens listen to their Mommy and some childrens don't. Today I'm a children that don't."

• When it came time to announce to the rest of our family that you were going to be a big brother, you got on the phone with Nanny and proudly declared "Mommy has a baby in her uterus!"

• You also wondered about how the baby would be fed once he was born. When I explained about how he would get nourishment and that only Moms can breast feed, you lifted your shirt and took a look at your own chest, shrugged and said "I guess my nipples are only decorations."

• Favourite misused word/phrase: (Singing at the top of your lungs) "Take me out to the hallway..."

Fourth Birthday:

• During my pregnancy, and after Alex was born, you had a lot of questions and you readily absorbed the answers. One day, between mouthfuls of muffin, you casually asked cousin Marcy, "Did you have two eggs inside your body that Howard fertilized and one of them became Leah and the other was Miranda?"

• One time I forgot to buckle up as we were backing out of the driveway. You were quick to remind me, and waved my forgetfulness off with "I guess you didn't recognize that we were actually driving"

• Favourite misused word/phrase: (When a lamp nearly got knocked over) "Oh oh! Is it breakalish?"


Fifth Birthday:

• Dad became angry with you one day and you were sent to your room crying. Later, when the two of you talked it over, you told Dad "It's not so bad to be crying because just before the tears spill out of my eyes, it's like looking through diamonds."

• You had a really bad cold, complete with runny nose and the need to blow it often. I tried to make you feel better by fluffing pillows and re-tucking the blanket, and I asked you "Isn't it nice to know that when you're feeling bad that you have a family that loves you so much, and who wants you to feel better?" You gave me a disgusted look and said "No, it's nice to know I have Kleenix!"

• Today, on your 5th birthday, Grandma and Grandpa were telling you how everyone came to see you on the day you were born. At bedtime, you slipped your hand in Dad's as you headed upstairs for bed, and said "Yep Dad, I guess that I'm the first baby that you ever spermed."

• Favourite misused word/phrase: (After I found the house keys that were hidden in my shoe on April first) "April kidding!"


Sixth Birthday:

• As Alex was learning to speak, your pride for him showed when you announced "He said that good, didn't he?" I agreed that he had, and emphasized that he had said it very well. You absorbed that, and the next time Alex said something to evoke your pride, you piped up with. "Alex said that well, didn't he? And I said 'well' well, didn't I?"

• Favourite misused word/phrase: (After devouring an apple) "I have a good appletite."


Seventh Birthday:

• In grade one, Mrs. Pattendon conducted an experiment. She filled three jars with snow and asked the class to predict which one would melt first - the one in the shade, the one in the sun or the one to which she added salt. Your hand shot up first and when called upon, you insisted "I know exactly which one will melt first, and I know why." Given the floor, you stated "The Urban Peasant (a cooking show chef at that time) always warns never to salt your meat before cooking it because the salt will suck the juice right out of the meat, and since water is the snow's juice, the salted one will melt first."

• Favourite misused word/phrase: (After learning that there had been dinosaurs in Canada - Albertosaurus) "Oh, and what about the Torontosaurus Rex?"


Eighth Birthday:

• You had a particularly nasty cold with a persistent cough, but you still wanted to read a story to Alex. The story went something like: "'Meow, meow, meow' purred the little cat. 'Whinny, whinny, whinny' said the happy horse". Then you had a fit of coughing, after which you immediately followed up with "cried my poor, sick body."

• Favourite misused word/phrase: (Upon learning that one of the teachers at your school was leaving to have her baby. "She's never coming back because she's on eternity leave."

Jeffrey has always been logical and cautious, so I know that he has not embarked on his career choice without considerable thought and certainty. I have no doubt in my mind that he will do well on his life's path. He's proud to wear his uniform and I'm extremely proud to call him my son.

One day a tiny hand will seek his out, and a little voice will be calling him "Dad." And like those long-time parents before me, I'll be telling him the truth when I say "Enjoy it while it lasts, because it flies by all too quickly".

Here are a few photos from around my neighbourhood - a place that Jeffrey will always call "home."

This sparrow has been happy about finding a full feeder in out back yard each day, and happier still about having a full beak.


A cautious blue jay watches to as I snap a photo through the glass.


In the frosty winter air, the sumac still holds its brilliant red, and contrasts against the frozen lake.


On the opposite side of the lake from my home, this little ledge juts out over the water near the dock. Occasionally, I'll see people fishing off of it in warmer seasons.


Same spot with a different camera setting, creating a golden hue.


Branches reach out to embrace one another, creating long, intertwined shadows in the snow.