Sunday, December 24, 2006

My "Wall Paper" - My daily view of you...

Dear Jamey boy, my love and joy,

The big picture to the left with the many inset photos is something I created this summer of a.d. 2006 from old pictures that you will see elsewhere on this web log. I believe it was taken in early March of a.d. 2001.

I took the blue hue freeze frame photo from the video, and did some color adjustments to make the photo warmer, more red in color, so you have rosy red cheeks rather than blue ones. But we both still have blue eyes!

The inset photos from top left are: "Adoring Dad" taken in October a.d. 2000. Next is "Eating PaPa's Popcorn" taken in the fall of a.d. 1999 as best I can recall.

The one with your PaPa's cradling you on his shoulder with your head in your father's hand was moments after you were born on 5 April in the Year of Our Lord Jesus 1998. You were such a joy boy for your Papa.

By the grace of God, your mother went into birth contractions a month early. Why that was a blessing is that the umbilical cord was wrapped around your next in your mother's womb, and you might well have been strangled to death in your mother's womb if you had stayed inside her body for another month.

I have a very powerful story of the experience of watching your birth while your mother was under anesthesia, unable to witness the joy of your birth. When we get together, I will share it with you.

Shortly after the woman doctor delivered you, and handed you to the delivery room nurses to check to see that you were healthy in most all ways, a nurse put you into my hand and arms, and later gave me a bottle of formula to feed you, so your first meal outside the womb came not from your mother's breast, but from your father's hand. You are your PaPa's boy, and I love you so very dearly.

God bless you my son. Know that I pray for you daily and many times a day.

And the next photo is a color corrected photo of your praying at the dinner table for your "friends", your cuddle puppy, and your Poo Bear, and likely, your PaPa bear too!

Just below that is a cute photo of you looking like you are so happy you could "pop the buttons" right off of your shirt, with your little Scot Tartan shorts and suspender set. That be my lad, me Jamey boy, it is!

And the photo in the center was taken on Thursday, 8 March a.d. 2001, if I recall correctly. On Tuesday, I had just returned from Virginia Beach where I gave the Invocation for the Family Foundation Dinner at the Founders' Inn, and where I was close friends with the founder of the Family Foundation, Walt Barbee, a wonderful Christian man, who has since passed on.

I came into the Bingman's house and because I had driven all the way from Virginia Beach that morning where I had done a GW presentation for kindergarten and first graders at Woodstock School, I was a little bit late, about 35 minutes.

I remember knocking on the Bingman's front door and hearing you shout with glee, "I told you he was coming..."

Anyway, I came in and was still in my George Washington uniform because I did not want to waste a minute leaving Virginia Beach to get back to Mount Vernon to be with my boy that afternoon beginning at noon. You helped me take off my trinity had and my "powdered wig", and then you sat in my lap as I read to you our Red Renwick King James Bible.

Two days later, the next time I was allowed to see you, I was dressed in a suit and tie. When I came in, you said so sweetly, "Hair? Hair?". I first answered, "I am not wearing my hair this time." Yet you asked again, "Hair? Hair?" So I thought a moment and answer, "Well wait a minute, I have it out in the car, I will go get it for you."

I had my video camera running from when I first came in, because I loved to watch you and me together during the times we were apart, and so while I was out of the house, at the car, you kept saying, "I'm here Daddy, I'm really right here. I'm right here Daddy, I'm really right here." It was so sweet, almost like a prayer saying "Make sure you come back Daddy, I'm really right here waiting for you..."

When I came back in the house you were just squealing with joy and excitement that I was back, that I had not left you alone with the Bingmans. I held out the bag where I kept the GW powdered wig, and to my surprise and delight, you reached in and pulled out the wig and popped it on YOUR head, you then went to the couch where I had placed a yard sign size American flag, and you stuck that between your legs like the stick pony I had brought you from out west in Wyoming the previous year on Independence Day.

You then started running around the Bingman's house squealing with joy, "Little Georgey, Little Georgey". I grabbed my video camera and started following you around the house capturing on video the joyous little boy pretending like his father to be "the father of His country" George Washington.

The wonderful scene quickly turned sad, because due to your being fed cow milk to which you have an allergy that appears like asthma, within three minutes of such play you started having breathing problems, got dizzy and collided into a wall and moments later collapsed by the back door in the kitchen where Joanie Bingman was preparing a meal.

You looked so afraid about what was happening to you, and confused as to why you could only play for three minutes before losing your breath.

I immediately put down the camera, picked you up, and carried you back into the living room and laid you on the couch while you regained your breath. After that incident, I checked your Kaiser Springfield medical records and discovered that in the preceding 15 months you had 16 Urgent Care visits for breathing problems, however in the 12 months before that when I cared for you daily and gave you Soy Milk rather than Cow Milk, you had zero breathing attacks.

Eventually, eleven months later, in February a.d. 2002, your breathing attack was so bad that the Kaiser Urgent Care clinic in Falls Church sent you by an ambulance to Fairfax Children's Hospital Emergency Room and ordered some medical tests.

After that dangerous time being taken by ambulance to the Emergency Room, I believe that your custodians began to give you Soy Milk so that you stopped having allergy reaction to Cow Milk breathing attacks, and so you were able to become more healthy.

I do not know for sure, because after I reported to the Child Protection Services social workers about the 16 breathing attacks, a Baptist deacon lawyer took action to get Kaiser to say that I could no longer read my son's medical record. It is wrong to deprive a father the right to read his son's medical record, but bad lawyers do lots of bad things to good people.

I am sorry son, I tried as long as I could to protect you from harm, but was made powerless to do more, or rather more than what I could do best for you, and that was as an earthly father to pray to Our Father in Heaven for my son, and his safety, health, and happiness.

Someday soon, at Godspeed, whether that be tomorrow or a decade away, you and I will be allowed to see each other once again, and no corrupt earthly authority will be able to deny our right to do so. Trust in the Lord, my son, and know that our day is coming!

Know always and in all ways, that your father James loves you, his son Jamey.

Merry Christmas!


Your PaPa,


James 1:2

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