Gratitude

Last night I went to see "Monsters vs. Aliens," a 3D animated film by Pixar, with my 20 year old son. Just him and me in a half-deserted theater with a smattering of young families. It was cool and funny and goofy, and I drove home almost in tears filled with gratitude.  He's my kid-movie buddy. No one else will go to those movies with me anymore, certainly not my 15 year old or husband. We've recently seen "Bolt" and "Coraline" just really fun movies, no drama, or gratuitous sex or language.  But that's not why I was grateful. I was thinking how crazy blessed I am just to be having this time with my kid, my kid who was never suppose to live past two weeks, who has actually coded and had to be brought back to life with CPR three times, who I've prayed and cried and prayed and cried and prayed some more for through the most desperate and dark of times of my life. The prayers were simple - please just let him live, let me see him grow up and see who he'll become. And here I am last night sitting in a movie theater with our goofy 3D glasses on just laughing and enjoying ourselves. And I've gotten to spend every day for the past 20 years with him, and they've been mostly good, normal days of living, punctuated with a few horrific trips to the hospital, but on the whole he wakes up with a smile on his face each morning and shares his love of life with everyone around him.  God has not just answered my prayers, but has lavished me with the purest, most joyful person I'll probably ever have the pleasure of spending time with on this earth. My son.