One Year Later...

Day 366:

What a ride, Conor.  This being my 366th post in a 365 day year (Leap year Boy'O.  Still, I don't typically do math in public.)  On this day at 7:45am, 2011 you were brought into this world a whopping 3 pounds 11 ounces and 16.5 inches long.  You came into this world a solid 8 weeks ahead of schedule.  You came into this world as what is otherwise considered a 'preemie'; a less than technical term referring to your being born prematurely.  Never the less, despite the close to three weeks we would spend in the NICU at Virginia Hospital Center in Arlington, VA, despite the risks involved in the development of your lungs, despite the herculean effort in "teaching" you how to 'suck, swallow, breathe' - a function most, if not all, full term babies are born with providing them the ability to feed direct from womb to breast - despite machines and gavage tubes and bilirubin levels and maintaining body temperature and frankly, anything else that comes along with being born two months ahead of schedule and confined to a hospital isolette in a neonatal intensive care unit... Despite any of that, you had heart, Son.  The heart of a lion.  You ARE the Lion Heart, Boy'O.

I am by no means a perfect person, Son.  I am in no way infallible.  I have my flaws like anybody does.  Some of those I own and some I even embrace.  Others I remain blissfully unaware of.  It's the human condition, Conor.  But if there's anything I have, it's heart, Son.  You see, Conor, the Lion Heart is a self fulfilling prophecy in many ways.  In those long and confusing days early on, the time spent simply staring at you through a glass box, I needed something to hang on to.  I needed to KNOW you would be okay.  I needed something, anything that would assure me you would not only push through the trials that lay ahead of you, but that you would thrive, Son.  That you would be the stronger for it.  That you would be exceptional in spite of those trials...  And in the knowing that you're quite literally equal parts Mommy and me, I could only look inward to find that "thing" I needed to believe.  You see Son, I am the Lion Heart...

I've believed of myself that I can get through even the most difficult of trials because I've long since convinced myself that I have the heart of a lion.  A heart that doesn't quit.  A heart that loves recklessly and with no sense of consequence.  A heart that beats hard for the best of what life has to offer.  And in no way would I ever be so bold as to flatter myself, Conor...  I am a humble man; even more so now that you're in the world.  But as I stood there in those early days, I was reassured you would be okay because you had a heart like mine.  The heart of a lion.  The Lion Heart.  And thus the REAL Lion Heart, you Son, was born...  Literally and figuratively.

The term of your mother's pregnancy with you was difficult to say the least.  Mommy was considered 'high risk', seemingly from the word "Go!" seeing specialists and OB's weekly throughout more than two-thirds of her time carrying you.  Though the constant in that was always one thing, Conor.  That constant was, and still is, your beating heart.  The first time I heard that tiny rapid heartbeat through the doppler machine at Mommy's OBGYN, I staggered.  And then, after catching my breath, I listened.  I listened hard.  The steady, heavy droning of a strong and consistent heartbeat was the sweetest song these ears have ever heard.  And each visit back was nothing more than another opportunity to hear the same song again.  And again.  And again.  Always constant, rhythmic, paced, and strong.  So very, very strong.  The heart of a lion.  The Lion Heart.

I began this blog as a way to maintain my sanity, Son.  The written word provides me an outlet to evacuate my worries and articulate my thoughts.  It's an opportunity for me to get what's in my head, out of it.  It's quite literally my consciousness in command, Conor.  And again, in those early days, needing something to hang on to while utilizing an outlet and satisfying a request for information from family members as close as 10 miles away and as far away as Vietnam, this blog to you became that thing...  And after doing it for 19 days I figured there's no reason I can't keep it going for the whole year!  A daily journal.  A diary of sorts, though public to those who would read it.  Very early on, "The Lion Heart" was born.  More than a moniker, a belief.  And here I am, one year later writing the final post - for this blog anyhow - and you have in no way disappointed, Son.  What was once a moniker of hope, then turned belief, is now a common theme.  An expectation.  A standard.  It's you, Conor.  Only you.

The year has absolutely flown by, Son.  I can remember every breath of where I was this time last year.   I'm sure your mother would say the same...  And then, after three weeks, you were home.  And then you were 2 months old and thriving.  And then you were four months old and in need of hernia surgery.  And then you were six months old and smiling, happy, lively, and viable.  And then you were 8 months old and talking, albeit gibberish.  And then you were 10 months old with a bout of pneumonia, unfazed by an otherwise crippling illness.  And today you're one year old... Crawling.  Pulling yourself up.  Tormenting the dogs.  Eating anything we put in front of you.  And it went by in an instant...  Hard to believe.

Through this blog I've been able to "talk" to you, in a manner of speaking.  I've been able to encapsulate the events of the year.  The milestones, the setbacks, the amazement, and the love.  I've had many posts that were simply an opportunity to say hello to you.  Others contained what I perceive to be a lesson.  Something you can take with you through life and ever after.  And yet others that detail the events of the day so as to understand exactly where you were in that time and place.  Be it the nine states you've travelled to in your first year.  Be it your first word.  Or maybe the hilarious stumbling of first time parents managing "blowouts".  Whatever it was on that day, it was worth it... All of it.

Perspective is defined as the state of existing in space before the eye.  Nothing provides more perspective than a child, Son.  For everything I ever saw before you were in the world changed completely.  And frankly, it continues to change.  You've given me quite the perspective, Boy'O.  And not a second to soon.  Personally speaking, though I know full well I could say this for many others, life is just better now that you're in the world, Son.  And from here, well Conor, we're just getting started, Boy'O.  You are an exceptional child.  A perfect boy.  And one day you'll be a man.  And when that day comes your exceptionalism will shine brighter than the Sun to anyone who would be so bold as to stand in your light.  I know this to be true.  I know this as I know you as the Lion Heart.  I know this completely.  Epic things await, Son.  Truly.

Before signing off, I leave you with this; a poem written in your name.  And know this, Conor... No matter where I am in the World; be it by your side, a world away, or watching you grow and thrive and be the exceptional human being I know you'll always be from Heaven above, I will keep you safe, Son.  No matter what.

The Boy--

The cool night comes and wraps around the empty sound of silence,
though in the dark I see the light and peer into it's blindness.
There's no more peace than seeing love alone in silent slumber,
alive again I breath it in, let no man put us under.
For his eyes sparkle in the dark and open oh so sweetly,
the World to him is all brand new and innocent completely.
While lying there all cuddled warm the boy knows not how safe,
the ends for which I'd ever go to protect from those who take.
The boy then once again would look to me and softly smile,
my heart is his forever more and I'll protect him all the while.
For to and through my end of days I've sworn to God above,

Embrace the forever promise to keep safe the boy I love. 

And so this concludes "Conor Year One"... Though I'm in no way through, Boy'O.  No, No... As I mentioned, I write to stay sane...  And I write to you.  And while I'm opening another blog in your honor in a few short days (more a periodical than a daily), I'll be sure to notate the happenings and events of my most special boy!  After all, we wouldn't want to miss anything, would we?

Check out:
http://goconorgo.blogspot.com

But gimme a few days, okay?!

I love you, Conor...  So very much.
-Dad

Eve of the Greatest Day

Day 365:

Wow Conor... "Surreal" is not a word that begins to describe what I'm feeling right now, Boy'O.  This time last year, December 13th, 2011, was like any other... It was an average Tuesday and, aside from it being your Uncle Justin's birthday, it was a day just like any other.  On that evening Mommy and I decided to head out to meet Uncle Justin, Aunt Marti, Uncle Gil,  and many others for a drink and to share in the celebration of it being your Uncle Justin's birthday... On the way we decided to grab a quick meal at a local Chinese restaurant, then make our way to the bar where all our friends were gathering... Little did we know, you would soon be on the way.

The evening was fine, nothing incredibly memorable about it, and brief as it was it was still good to see Uncle Justin and friends for a small celebration.  And then home we went.  Several hours later we welcomed you into the world.  All 3 lbs 11 oz of you...

Tonight we followed the same pattern.. As best we could at least.  Me, Mommy, Grandpa K9, Memeow, and of course, you, made our way to that same Chinese restaurant, Son.  We had a veritable Chinese FEAST, Son!  Enjoying the meal, reminiscing on what it all meant only a year ago.  Brevity that gives a man pause, Conor.  Truly.

And here we sat enjoying the evening and reflecting.  Thinking about all that's transpired in the almost full year since you were brought to us by God.  And ever learning, Boy'O.  Ever learning.

Most interesting thing about this night was, I discovered, as did you, that oranges are maybe the thing you've liked the most in all the foods we'd been feeding you!  You couldn't get enough!  When the server brought over a full plate of orange wedges as an after dinner treat for us adults, I decided to give you one to see how you'd take to it.  Three wedges later I had my answer!  You took to it like a fish to water, Son!  And right then and there, another wave of perspective swept over me, Boy'O.  A realization of so many things to come.  Not that I hadn't considered it before, but given the night, what it meant, seeing you enjoying an orange only hours ahead of your birthday, I felt a great many emotions, Son.  And I'm not afraid of them... Not one bit.

After dinner I dropped you and Mommy and your Grandparents off at the house and headed out to see some of the very best friends this life can provide, if for nothing else to simply wish a happy birthday to your Uncle Justin and complete the circle of this day, one year ago...

In a few hours you're one year old, Conor.  One year!  A blip on the radar of time, Son.  Though more significant and in more ways than anything you could possibly imagine.  And quite frankly, it's just what I needed, Son... A little bit of you, forever and ever.

I love you, Conor.
-Dad

It Was the Best of Times

Day 364:

Conor my boy, when you look at the whole of each and every year you have to weigh the good and the bad... The low points and the high points... The positives and the negatives...  And in the end what you really must come to realize is, the good will ALWAYS outweigh the bad.  And it's so easy to focus on the bad, Boy'O.  Those times seem exponentially larger than the string of good days that precede it or the great days that follow.  The bad always seems heavier.  But it's not, Son.  It's not at all...  In fact, those days or periods of time are designed to do one thing; provide a lesson, Son.  You learn how to manage the bad times, you learn how to move through the tough times, you learn how to navigate the seas of emotions that can so easily drag you down if you let them... And then you think about the good times, Son.

Today was one of the good days, Son.  Today your Grandpa K9 and Memeow offered to take over Conor duties for the night and give Mommy and me the night out for the first time in I can't remember how long.  And you know, Son, we could have done something epic!  We could have gone someplace we've never been before!  We had Carte Blanche!!  But we decided we'd head to a local steak house, Ruth's Chris, to see my dear friend of 25 years, Pete Maxwell...  Always a good call.  Pete takes such excellent care of us and is sure to suggest the best of what they offer while providing exceptional service to compliment the finest steaks and wines...  A great night indeed, and an opportunity to catch up with your mother on all the things we otherwise miss through the day to day trials...

Now home and punching away on this keyboard, watching a bit of a live concert being provided for the victims of Hurricane Sandy... Bands like The Who, and the Foo Fighters... Bands that will long since be extinct around your coming of age, but rest assured Son, you'll know about them if your dear old Dad has anything to say about it...

I bid you goodnight, Boy'O... Time to turn in.  And tomorrow's a very big day.

I love you, Conor.
-Dad

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

Day 363:

Well Conor, I didn't make that flight last night... I ended up staying in Tampa at a local Sheraton, so sadly I was unable to tuck you in. Still, it wasn't so bad I suppose.  I managed to get an early night's sleep which I was apparently badly in need of because I went down at around 10:30pm (internet and television were both knocked out as a result of a bad storm, so I had nothing else to do), and when the alarm went off at 6:30am, I was sure I could have stayed in bed another couple hours...  Never the less, I was booked on this morning's flight and so that would be my ticket home.

I finally arrived home around Noon to an empty house in need of some picking up ahead of your Grandparents getting here.  See Boy'O, as I was flying over the Eastern seaboard, Grandpa K9 and Memeow were rolling up on the Amtrak out of Savannah, Georgia.  So I literally flew directly over the train they were on while on my way from Florida!

When they finally made the DC area it was a little after 7:00pm and I was there to meet them in our truck, Son.  Very nice to see family coming to town to celebrate your birthday!  And so in they come, Boy'O.

I'm wiped out, Son.  Traveling takes it out of you, and so I'm going to bid everyone good night and make way for the bedroom.

I love you, Son.
-Dad

The Traveling Salesman

Day 362:

Conor, there are two things in this world I'll advise you to never become; one being a lawyer, the other,  a salesman...  It's a tough living, Boy'O.  Certainly feast or famine.  And when things are good, they're really good... Though when they're bad, they can be the absolute dregs, Boy'O.  And today is one of those days...

I've been dragging a couple of would be customers along for some time now, Son.  Both happen to be in Florida and so I've been spending an awful lot of time down here, traveling to client sites.  And you know, that's not so bad!  I like to travel and be out in the World!  But what I'm engineering towards is a signed deal before the end of the year, and nothing can be more frustrating than having delay after delay because one person or another can't make a meeting, or availability is lacking, or a resource is sick, or whatever it is... And it's always something.

It's safe to say that just about every job you'll ever have is dependent upon somebody else doing their job just as well.  Though in sales it's a contrarian effort, because unless there's some unknown entity sitting on your prospect's neck to get something done, the people you're working with are also working against you.  Frustrating to say the least, but that's the job.

Like I've been standing on ceremony about the last few days, you just can't let it bother you, Boy'O.  There are much bigger things on the horizon, and those things are steeped in what life is all about; the good times, Son.  And we're gonna have 'em, Conor. We're going to have EPIC times.

I'm on standby for a flight out of Tampa tonight and hopefully I'll make it home... Fingers crossed.  And if so, I'll kiss you goodnight, Son.

I love you, Son.
-Dad

Lion Heart on the Prowl

Day 361:

Well Son, you've gone from a feeble crawl to a full on cruise in a matter of only a couple of days!  It's now to the point where setting you on the floor and turning around to grab a cup of coffee means you're undoubtedly going to get your hands on something you shouldn't.  Case in point, I spin around to grab the afore mentioned coffee, and by the time I'd spun back around you'd moved three feet, grabbed the power cord for my MacBook, and started to shove the 'hot' end into your mouth.  Needless to say, I'm pretty pleased that Apple employs a magnetic power source thus rendering it useless docked to the appropriate receptor.  It was truly a lesson learned and we're all lucky it wasn't the hard way...

Aside from your Lion Hearted-ly quick reflexes developing into something to recon with, the other news of the day, at least as far as you're concerned, is that you've turned the corner from how you felt yesterday.  Though a raspy cough did manage to take its toll and has left you with a bit of a hoarse, raspy voice.  Regardless, it's not bothering you at all, that's for sure!

We're staying steady with the breathing treatments and they're doing their job.  You're breathing easier though, like any cold, it's gonna take a couple days to work its way out of your tiny little system.  Still, better to be a sickie now than on your birthday!

As for the day itself, well, it was certainly a good one, Conor!  Your Uncle Justin came over to watch our Washington Redskins beat the dreaded neighboring Baltimore Ravens, and in overtime no less!  And on top of that, Mommy used left over fried turkey to make the most ridiculously delicious turkey chili I could have ever imagined!  Fried turkey, okra, onions, green chilies, white beans... Mmmmm GOOD!  A perfect concoction for a day such as this... That's to say rainy, overcast, and cold... Nothing like a good authentic home cooked chili to take the chill off while celebrating the Redskins four game winning streak!

Now I'm off to pack because I'm flying out, yet again, to Tampa for some more business meetings.  Though I'll be home on Tuesday, Boy'O.  Along with your Grandpa K9 and Memeow!  Gonna be a fun week for you, Conor...   My big little birthday boy...

I love you, Boy'O.
-Dad

A Thousand Points of Light

Day 360:

Well Boy'O, talk about an eventful day!  Last night was virtually sleepless, Son.  And not because of anything fun... Quite the opposite actually.  No sooner had I made my way to bunk down for the night, call it 11:30pm, you were up and crying to beat the band.  Mommy jumped up to look after you, though realizing you were congested, feeling yucky, and all but inconsolable, she figured the only way to get you to sleep would be to bring you to our bed.  And to her credit that worked!  For a while...

When you woke up around 4:00am you were worse congestion wise, and so the only solution would be to get you back on albuterol, a nebulization drug, to help you clear your lungs and breathe easier, maybe get a bit more sleep.  Well, it worked for you, but not for me.  Once I'm up, I'm up.  And so I laid awake shushing you back to sleep when you'd stir...

It's not so bad I suppose.  I'm not a man who needs much sleep, Boy'O, so I'm all to happy to do it.  Though the day would be quite eventful and the lack of sleep is finally taking its toll.

When the pediatrician opened at 8:30am I was ringing them every 5 minutes 'til they answered.  We got a 9:30am appointment and, given the recent bout with pneumonia, the doc was all to happy to see you. So we brought you in and let them get a look at you, and so the medicine called for more nebulizer treatments every four hours complimented with two doses per day of budesonide, a steroid to help strengthen your little lungs.

Of course, through all of this you're as smiley as you've ever been, astonishing even Dr. Howell who, for having children of her own as well as being a long time pediatrician, commented repeatedly about how amazing you are for being so sick; a nasty gurgling in your lungs accompanied by a pretty good cough.  Though still, when we finally left, she seemed pretty sure that, as long as we stuck with the medicine regiment, you'll be turning the corner in no time.

By this point you'd already had a full day, Son!  But I was just getting started...  Upon returning home I started pulling all the Christmas lights out and getting things ready to signal Santa Claus for my good boy.  And so up they went!  Over a thousand of them!  Around the door, the rail, in the plum tree... It's a veritable Winter Wonderlund outside!  And Santa's sure to hit this house, Boy'O...  And I know he will.

Though believe it or not, our twinkling lights were not the highlight of the day.  No sir, tonight's highlight came in the form of my motorcycle club's Christmas / Anniversary party.  And what made that all even better?  Ziggy was there!!  Surely you'll remember the blog entries about my friend Chris "Ziggy" Ziegler and the motorcycle wreck he was in last Summer.  Well, after 2 months in the hospital and what's already been, as well as what will be, months and months of physical rehabilitation, Zig and his wife Carrie made the long drive form his home in Fredricksburg to the bar in Gainsville to be there.

Conor, it was SO GOOD to see our dear friend, Ziggy.  Easily the highlight of the day!  Still wheelchair ridden albeit mobile and upbeat, Ziggy was as refreshing a site as any of us have seen in six months.  And to be sure, Boy'O, it's the little miracles, and sometimes the big ones, that make you appreciate all the important things; all family, all friends, all loved ones... Ziggy came as close to death as anyone I've personally ever known and the fact that he's here, with us, smiling and being himself, is again a lesson of humility in holding close to us that which matters, and letting go that which does not...

Get well, Conor... You' have a big week ahead of you, Son.

I love you.
-Dad