My Finest Masterpiece

I've never been the academic type. My strengths were in the fine arts. I can carry a tune, I dabbled with musical instruments (but I got bored and quit) and I've got a knack for drawing and painting.

I've sang and painted for money throughout my adult life. There have been moments when I was really proud of myself for those talents...like being able to sing at Warren's funeral and not crack. I've won awards and contests for my voice and I've sang at the weddings of some of my dearest friends...

But my biggest masterpiece, the thing I am most proud of, wasn't sung behind a microphone or drawn by hand. The masterpiece I am most proud of was created on July 27, 2004...and his name is Jackson.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was joyful and scared all at the same time. I'm the youngest of three children...I had no experience with babies. Until he was placed in my arms at 5:19 am on that Tuesday morning, I don't think I had ever held a baby before. When I looked down at that creation I had made, my heart stopped and my breath was taken away. I had finally felt what true love feels like. I was forever changed.

My whole family was there for his birth. It was quite a party...minus the party mood. As I mentioned before, there was a lot of tension during my labor. My mother, my father, my sister and sister in law as well as my friend Lizz were all there. Even my cousin Dina made an appearance.

The one person who was not there was Jackson's father...and that's because I wanted it that way. We had separated when I was 6 months pregnant. I survived the pregnancy on my own, without a partner, and I was going to survive the delivery on my own as well. It caused some tension so the air was thick throughout most of my labor...and then he made his grand appearance.

Once I had held my new son in my arms and had finally seen the little being that had been trying to break my ribs for 9 months, they took him away to clean him up. It was during this time that my father was brought in the room to see his first grandchild for the very first time. When he entered the room, he still didn't know what the sex was...and then he saw him.

I watched from across the room as my father laid eyes on Jackson for the first time. After 26 long hours, there was finally peace in the room. Well...there was screaming from the baby but with the adults there was finally peace.

I saw my dad fall in love that morning. You don't see that very often...it will stick with me forever.

"You have a grandson!" they told him.
He beamed.
"What's his name?" he asked me from across the room.
"Jackson Joseph." I said.
My dad's face softened as he realized his first grandchild was named after him.
"Thank you," he said with a crack in his voice and a small smile on his lips and he looked back down at that little, pink body before him.

True love.

From that day on, Jackson and my father had formed a very special bond. When I came home to an empty house with my new baby, my family rotated in shifts to come and help me. There was still chaos and friction once I got home...but my father always stood by me. He may have questioned my choices and perhaps didn't agree with them, but he never once turned his back on me. He never made me feel bad for the choices I made or how I was dealing with the situation at hand. He was at my house every day and numerous nights.

I didn't have a husband to turn to. I didn't have that rock that most women have when they come home from the hospital with a newborn...but I had my dad. HE was my rock. HE was the one I turned to and he never once turned away when I did. He became the male role model in Jackson's life. He was not only his grandfather, but in a way he was acting as his father too.

When Jackson was 5 weeks old, we moved in with my parents because my ex husband kicked us out of our marital home. We lived there for the first three years of Jackson's life. During this time, the relationship between my father and my son grew stronger and stronger. My dad would walk him for hours on end around the house trying to get him to sleep. He was the only one who could get him to go down for a nap and the two of them would sleep together on the couch...my dad's arms going numb from not being able to move so as not to wake the baby. It was adorable to watch.

My father adored Jackson and Jackson absolutely loved him in return. They were the best of friends.

Whereas I remember my father being the disciplinarian, he was a gentle giant with my son. He jumped at every opportunity to be with Jack and he never raised his voice. The man that used to spank me when I got out of line would become emotional if he thought I was being too hard on my son. I never once saw a look of fear on Jackson's face when he was with my dad...he knew he had him wrapped around his finger. My dad knew it too.

When we moved out, it was hard on my dad. No longer was he going to see Jackson every morning when he first woke up. No longer would he hear the sound of little feet running from one end of the house to the other. No longer would he hear, "PAPA!!!" being shouted from the other room. He was no longer going to be present for all the "firsts" still to come. The little being that he had grown to love so strongly and had become so accustomed to seeing each and every day was no longer going to be there cuddling with him as the watched cartoons.

The house was once again silent...

But distance can't stop a love like that. The fact that they were no longer in the same house had no effect on their relationship. In fact, it might have made it that much stronger. They would talk on the phone almost every single day and if they didn't talk on the phone, Jackson demanded that we go visit. He would beg me to let him stay there while I left so he could have alone time with Nani and Papa...which really meant he wanted me to leave so they could spoil him rotten.

And spoil him they did. They still do.

Over the next seven years, nothing has been able to dent that bond the two of them have. Not distance, not age...nothing. And while ALS has taken many, many things away from my father, it has not managed to take away the love Jackson has for him. Although my father looks different and his body has changed drastically, Jackson still sees him as his Papa...he doesn't see ALS. He is not scared of the changes that have taken place over the last few years. He loves Papa as strongly as he did when he was a baby. More even.

There are many reasons why I love my child...many I can't even put into words...but the fact that he looks no differently upon my father, the fact that he's able to love him unconditionally and not be afraid of him as most children would be...well that's why I love him the most. The fact that he brings immense joy to my father each and every time they talk on the phone or see each other in person, that makes me love him more than he will ever know.

There are many times when I doubt myself and how I parent my children...especially Jackson since he's my first go at this thing called Motherhood. I criticize myself for what I consider to be mistakes I make each and every day...but Jackson's love for my dad, the way he looks out for him and goes out of his way to let Papa know he loves him...well that just shows me that somewhere along the line I've actually done something right.

It's not the obvious things that make me beam and brag over my son. It's his heart. It's his ability to love...an ability that isn't taught in school or learned on the playground. It's something you're born with.

That heart that lies in that seven year old body...I put that there. I created that.

He's my finest masterpiece.