Today, my memories are strong and clear. And with those memories, grief made a quick visit. 

Today my son is 36. Thirty-six years ago, at 5:30am, my water broke. My husband went from a dead sleep to upright and panicked. I can still see him standing by the bed. 

There are memories throughout the day. Take the one when Terry got very close to my face during a labor pain and sweetly said “I understand.” Nope. He did not!  In my moment of pain and anger, I assisted his understanding by grabbing his mustache and yanking as hard as I could.  He screamed and the nurse called on the intercom to see if we were okay. We both laughed.  And I got my epidural. 

When it was decided that I needed a c-section, they sent Terry to get a bite to eat while they prepped me. The poor nurse had no idea that Terry had no fast forward speed or any sense of direction.  As they were wheeling me to surgery, I could hear the nurse yelling “Mr Benson!  Mr Benson!” He did arrive in time for the birth. 

He was so excited to see our new son. He assured me Zachary was prettier than most babies and didn’t have that annoying cry.  He slept in the chair in my hospital room and scared more than one nurse with his explosive snores. He changed diapers.  Cuddled Zac, and did everything he could. 

Terry has been gone almost 20 years.  Today, our baby boy is 36. The memories are as clear as ever. 

Happy Birthday, Zac!  You had the best dad to teach you.  And now you are the best dad to Joshua Terry.  Keep making memories!