I don't even know what to say. Justin Alexander is three. 20% of the way to being 15. As joyous as this occasion is, sometimes I find it hard to feel anything besides robbed. They grow up so quickly. A constant reminder of why every single second that we get to spend with our kids should be cherished like it's the last. Because in some sense it is. He'll never be 2 again. And everyday (sometimes every hour) brings forth a "first" for him (and us) that cannot be undone, duplicated, or relived in it's full splendor.
At first, I thought that as he got "older" his milestones (first steps, first words, etc.) would start to be less frequent. It only seemed logical. But what I have learned is that quite the opposite actually happens are your children grow up. As they learn to interact with the world around them, these things we call milestones (i.e., revelations in understanding, achievement, and ability to express themselves) simply become too numerous to document. My guess is that watching your children grow is somewhat like God's ability to watch an oak tree grow from a seed: all the while being acutely aware of every single branch, leaf, and blossom that the tree experiences in its lifetime. While the number may seem infinite in nature, a proud parent celebrates each one with fireworks. And somehow it never gets old. I can easily say that to diligently watch and be an instrumental part in the unfolding of someone else's life has been the highlight of my 35 years. And if Justin is my oak tree, I suppose Jasmine is our rose garden.
And while we'll never back the time that has already passed us by, what we can do is thank God that we have made the absolute most of every precious moment that we were given. We captured as much of it on film (both mental and digital) as we could; and are constantly reminded that we are fortunate to gave such great kids and the great opportunity to spend as much time with them as we do.
At first, I thought that as he got "older" his milestones (first steps, first words, etc.) would start to be less frequent. It only seemed logical. But what I have learned is that quite the opposite actually happens are your children grow up. As they learn to interact with the world around them, these things we call milestones (i.e., revelations in understanding, achievement, and ability to express themselves) simply become too numerous to document. My guess is that watching your children grow is somewhat like God's ability to watch an oak tree grow from a seed: all the while being acutely aware of every single branch, leaf, and blossom that the tree experiences in its lifetime. While the number may seem infinite in nature, a proud parent celebrates each one with fireworks. And somehow it never gets old. I can easily say that to diligently watch and be an instrumental part in the unfolding of someone else's life has been the highlight of my 35 years. And if Justin is my oak tree, I suppose Jasmine is our rose garden.
And while we'll never back the time that has already passed us by, what we can do is thank God that we have made the absolute most of every precious moment that we were given. We captured as much of it on film (both mental and digital) as we could; and are constantly reminded that we are fortunate to gave such great kids and the great opportunity to spend as much time with them as we do.
Happy Birthday, Justin. We love you tremendously, and can't wait to see what yet another year will unfold. Here's to my oak tree.
