Twenty-two years ago, March 24 was also Good Friday. How do I remember this? Because my daughter, Robbie Donn Heyduck, was born on that day. Happy Birthday, Robbie!
I still remember the first time I held her, and looked down into those dark blue eyes. “How do you hold a baby? Wow, she doesn’t have much in the way of neck muscles! I don’t know how to take care of a baby!” were all thoughts bumping into each other in my head.
None of those things seemed to matter to Robbie at the time.
I remember in the first couple months of her life, while I was still in seminary, how quickly she fell asleep as I read Liberation Theology to her.
There are too many memories to share here, and many of them belong just to me and to her.
And now she is 22. I kinda remember being 22, but not in any way that would be worth reflecting on in her direction, at the risk of sounding preachy. The main thing, in fact, I hold onto about having been 22 was that I lived through it. Robbie will too, and, someday, will look back on 22 and be thankful both for having been 22 and for not being 22 anymore.
Happy Birthday, Robbie! I wish you a very special day.