Birthday
Yesterday was Lacy's 34th birthday. He tells everyone he is 65, or 58, or 45 depending on how he feels that day.
We had a huge party for Lacy on Friday, with family and friends in attendance. He had a great time, and was very happy. When we sang "Happy Birthday" to him, he grinned and rubbed his hands together.
I was remembering the spring and summer we brought Lacy home to live with us, and a song that will forever remind me of that time.
We had a huge party for Lacy on Friday, with family and friends in attendance. He had a great time, and was very happy. When we sang "Happy Birthday" to him, he grinned and rubbed his hands together.
We met our
son one cold afternoon in February of 1982. He
was sitting on the wooden floor, in front of a big picture window. The sunlight on his white-blond hair created
a halo around his head. Lacy Alan was
three years old. He sat there, spinning
a pair of scissors and laughing at the motion. We sat down on a sofa fairly close to where
he was playing. When we said his name he
froze, and stared at the wall. Kenny and I didn’t
make a move to get closer to him at that time, but just stayed where we were,
talking briefly to him every few minutes until he made the move to show us what
he was doing. We brought him home in
April of that year. Slowly, Lacy began
to speak to us, and we were able to develop a deep relationship. That
summer, the song “He’s So Shy” by the Pointer Sisters was playing all the time
on the radio. The lyrics reminded me of
the careful way we had gotten to know each other and how the three of us had
eventually become a family. “Something
inside whispered to me, ‘You’d better move in carefully.’ Then when he smiled
and turned away, that told me all he could not say. That’s when I knew he wanted me too, but I had
to do some breaking through.” I would
often sing along with the chorus as Lacy and I drove to the store or to a
doctor’s appointment. “He’s so shy! That sweet little boy who caught my eye.” One day he asked me “Mother, what is that
song about?” “That’s your song, sweetheart,” I told him. Even today, if he hears
that song on the radio, he flashes a big smile and says, “Mom, they’re playing
my song!”
Thank you, Lord, for the wonderful gift that is Lacy Alan Goff.
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