Davey, Baby, Roast Beast and Gravy (a little tune we used to sing)

This is my first born son Dave.



Dave was reading on a third grade level at 18 months, honestly, he really was. I don’t know how he learned to read, I didn’t teach him and there was no one else around to teach him. When I took him to his pediatrician (because he was freaking out everyone) he took Dave, without me, into his office with his nurse after telling me, "Oh lots of mother’s think their babies can read, what really happens is the child knows where the words are on the pages of their favorite books". Well, when the nurse and the doctor came out of the room they looked like they saw a ghost.....apparently Dave read the medical journal to them....words like "stethoscope." They told me to run, don’t walk to a child psychiatrist and get this miracle child evaluated because he’s "off the charts" genius.


From then on, raising Dave was like having, dare I say, a handicapped child. He was too intellectual for his own good. And no common sense, at all. He was the typical "Absent Minded Professor", i.e., walked outside in the snow forgetting to put on his shoes without realizing his feet are getting soaking wet and frostbit, forever leaving his backpack at the bus stop before getting onto the bus, riding his bike into the middle of traffic because he wasn’t thinking about how dangerous it is. The child was in la la land 24/7. I could tell you some funny stories! He also was an amazing pleasure, so smart, so compassionate, such a good son, always supportive of me.


Dave is now 26. Recently his girlfriend of 2 years broke his heart by dumping him for his friend without notice (aren’t I such a legal freak?). For the first time in his life, I felt Dave wasn’t going to make it through this trauma. I put him on my church prayer chain, sought advice from any man I could ask, called him constantly to check up on him (because he goes to college 90 miles away) and worried my butt off. To top it off, he was in the midst of finals and learning to read, write and speak Chinese and such. Dave didn’t eat or drink for two weeks, his heart was broken.....and I know that pain, it should be considered a cause of death.

Then I got a great idea. I only know what to do if it were a girlfriend of mine, or my daughter. I would take them out for a day at the spa. Dave is not a girly man in any way, shape or form. Dave used to be a semi-professional wrestler named "Ash" (one of those things a parent is not so proud of....it’s the equivalent of having your child join the traveling circus....I’ll tell the story another time...but at least I learned something new, the audiences taught me some obscene hand jestures I never knew existed).

I drove out to his dorm early on a Sunday morning, foregoing church mind you, and took him to a local spa for a day of beauty. He was reluctant at first, so we walked around the spa for awhile until I convinced him that I don’t have any idea what to do to get him out of his "suicidal mood", that I’m not a father and have never been good at playing that role to him, but I am a mother and a mother would do this for their child. He finally gave in. That was his picture before the hair cut.

See, doesn’t he just look totally depressed? He looked horrible, he couldn’t even smile.

And here we are after the haircut. (it wound up up there, I still don't know how to work this blog stuff, sorry.


But, see the twinkle in his eyes?

Dave gave me permission to tell this story to you all. This all happened a few months ago and he is constantly thanking me for doing this for him. This day transformed him in a way he cannot verbalize. When I drove him back to the campus and he got out of my car, kids everywhere were going up to him saying, "Dave, is that you, you look amazing" I sat in my car for awhile listening as he was walking up to his dorm. It did something in his heart to hear all those compliments over and over again, it made him feel like he was worth something after being betrayed and hurt beyond measure. It was the turning point he needed and I knew that he was going to be all right. And he is. Last night we went food shopping together and he told me again how wonderful that day was and how desperately he needed it to get out of his depression. He even feared for his own life back then. He even has a new girlfriend now and his previous one keeps calling him wanting to be friends. Momma didn’t raise no fool, he politely tells her "no, that’s not good for me". I love Dave.