4/20/08 8:49 AM
The day he was born was one of the happiest days of my life. My dear wife gave me the greatest of gifts that day: immortality. Something of me would remain upon this earth after my time is done. Then she blessed me twice with another son.
He has come a long way in 13 years. Been through a lot in that little life. He was at school, 3 blocks from the Twin Towers, on 9/11. Then, in November of that year, his mother had a heart attack when I was not home. He and his little brother pushed Mami out of the way of the front door, went to my next door neighbor, and said "My Mami needs an ambulance!" They saved her life that day. Aged 4 and 6. Then he saw his mother die on Christmas Eve morning. I could not save her.
Of course I cannot think of his birth without thinking of her. My wife, my life. She gave me life. She gave me love. She gave me children. She gave me of herself. May Jehovah God grant that I might prove myself worthy of her.
The therapy is helping, but I still have feelings of guilt and regret. Her mother has been so supportive and loving. I asked her (again) if she blamed me for her daughter's death. She responded "Stop it Nori! If I blamed ya I'da killed ya!" That made me laugh. I love Southerners. She does not blame me. If only I could stop blaming myself...
Happy Birthday, Tito!
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