My darling son, Grizz, was 19 years of age on 8 February.
The day that you were born, snowflakes fell softly on the hospital window at Raigmore, as the helicopter brought in another screaming Mum from the remote frozen Highlands to give birth to a new life. Her fifth. My first...
I remember looking in exhausted wonder at the beauty of your tiny self, all long fingers and form, ten toes, a tiny prize fighter's fists and a fallen arch. ...Holding your hand tight and you, having the nerve even then, to tiddle all over me twice, just as I was being promised a cup of tea and a slice of toast by the relieved and retreating midwife.
On that day, and for years thereafter, I have felt the most incredible love for you, drawn to where you are as if by magic, like a magnet to iron filings, mother to son, sea to the shore;
...Mother Nature to her child, the Earth.
I love you as I have loved none else, my beautiful, clever, quirky, funny, cheeky, bright and wonderful boy.
Happy 19th Birthday, my best! Love you lots xxx