January 17

Everybody has a story behind their "Innanets Name." I'm no exception to that. Amymay is something that Mr. Man used to call me back when we first met. And his birthday is January 17. Thus: amymay117. It started out as my email addy. Then as my username on the myspace... and so on.

Back in 2004 the 117 part took on a new meaning. My mom died on January 17. I remember standing in the hospital, saying my goodbyes, trying to wake up from a living nightmare... and thinking how inappropriate it was that Mom was dying on Marc's birthday. Thing is... we weren't even together at the time (and hadn't been since 2001), but he was always part of my consciousness. I kinda felt guilty, thinking about him when I should have been thinking about her.

When we got back together, January 17 rolled around for the first time, and that guilt fell away. See, I never really believed in coincidence, and I still don't. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that my mom chose this date to cross over. I'm saying that Mr. Man's birthday being on the same date helps me to remember to celebrate. Celebrate her life rather than mourn a loss. Celebrate his bornday. Celebrate the way that lives converge, even when it seems that they have taken seperate paths. Celebrate love, and family, and beginnings, and life.

So that's the story of my online name. It's kinda dramatical, but that's how I roll!
Anyway... Happy Birthday, boo!! And, Mom, I love and miss ya!

My son's first kindergarten girlfriend.....

For those who don't know, my son is bi-racial.  This year he started kindergarten, and although there are other black and bi-racial kids in his school, there was only one other black child in his class.  Her name was Ashanti.  She was a vibrant, social, smart, cute and confident little girl.  The second week of school, Eli came home and announced he was Ashanti's boyfriend because she told him he was,  and he should get used to her telling him what to do.  The fifth week of school, she taught him a word (guess what it was) and told him it was a word he could say, but his mom couldn't.  Ashanti and her mother, Zakia, perished in an apartment fire last night.  

I was at work today when I found out.  I wanted to take off for home and just hold on to my son.  My dad was watching him while I was busy nursing the sick people at the hospital.  Dad said he didn't want to talk about it, other than to tell everyone he saw that his "girlfriend" went to Heaven.  By the time I got home, Eli was sleeping.

I have been sitting here watching my son sleep, just thanking Jesus that I have Eli, and painfully aware how fast things can change.  I'm also slightly ashamed of how much I have taken for granted.  I don't always practice as much patience with Eli as I should, or spend as much time as I should.  I don't play and laugh with him like I ought to....  and time is short....  painfully short.  

I can't wait for morning, so I can hug my son and tell him how much I love him.