Happy Birthday!

             Yesterday was my nephew’s 46th birthday.  Ironically, his birthday comes the day after Mother’s Day, since he is the closest thing that I have to a son. It seems like only yesterday that I was giving him his first rocking horse for Christmas or helping to teach him how to ride a bike and throw a ball.

            I still remember the first time that he was forced to spend the night with me.  His Mom had gone into early labor with his sister, and my parents were out of town, so he was stuck with me.  I learned a lot about being a mom that night.  He was about eight years old, and he kicked like a mule.  When I couldn’t take any more of that, I moved to the couch but when he stopped snoring, I had to get up to make sure he was still alive.  I guess that’s how new moms feel – their babies are just a lot younger.

            Then, there was the time that he slammed the door on his finger.  I arrived at the hospital just as they were wheeling him into surgery.  I was crying and he looked up at me and said “Why are you crying? It’s my finger!” He’s never been one to mince words.  You always know exactly where he stands.

            Over the years, we’ve enjoyed car trips where he tried to ride his big wheel across the back seat of my car or the time that he laid the bucket seat down so flat that he almost suffocated his friend sleeping in the back seat.  We cheered together at many U of L games, including one conference tournament where I feared he would never wash his hands again after meeting one of his favorite players.

            There were also serious times when we talked about decisions he had to make when his parents split.  I also gave him his first job, which he didn’t love but learned more about responsibility which helped to make him into the man he is today.

            More recently, he taught me about love, service, and compassion when he insisted that we care for my Mom at home after my father’s death.  For three years, he continued to return the love and support that his Memaw and Papa had shown to him.  I wouldn’t have made it without him.

            Now, I get to watch him as he teaches his own boys the lessons he learned from his Papa.  I watch him teach young men not just how to win games but how to win at the game of life.  He doesn’t coddle them, but he does encourage them.  He doesn’t expect perfection, but he does expect an honest effort.  He recognizes the responsibility that comes with influencing young lives.

            I know that his Memaw and Papa would be proud of the man he has become.  I couldn’t be prouder if he were my own son.  Happy Birthday, Travis!

Proverbs 22: 6

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