Happy Birthday, sweet Robb

We were shopping in a quaint town in Wisconsin when I saw him: an adorable redhead, probably around 9 years old, sitting at a small table outside an ice cream shop. I always notice redheads, so I zeroed in on this cute little guy. And totally unexpectedly, he looked right into my eyes. And grinned. It was the kind of grin that co-conspirators share, an understood intimacy, an unexplained connection that was like a jolt of electricity. It momentarily took my breath away–and required every bit of self-control I could muster to not gather that precious little guy up into my arms for a huge hug. Wouldn’t that have been a great headline? Insane Grandma Arrested for Hugging Child.

I hurried into a store to try and compose myself. Totally breaking down into a sobbing fit wouldn’t have been seemly either. But I wanted a glimpse of him again, so when we came out of the store just a few short minutes later, I looked for him. He was gone. Vanished into thin air, it appeared.

What on earth? Why had he grinned at me like that? Did he instantly recognize me as one of those crazed moms/grammas who go bananas over redheads, and he loved the attention? It was just so…uncanny. That deep connection, how we looked deeply into each other’s eyes.

When I told my friend Judy, she had an explanation: Maybe he was an angel, she suggested. We know God does that–sends angels to people for specific reasons as messengers. Maybe he was sent there for you? To give you the gift of love in that grin.

I feel tingly and blessed and short of breath as I type this. An angel? Just for me?

I gather that memory into my heart, and tuck it away there on this day, your birthday, my precious son. I love you…I remember your adorable smiles and laughter. And I thank you, God, for that birthday gift from you–one unforgettable grin.

Happy Birthday, Robb. I love you, my son.