doting on my danny-boy

Today was Danny's 9th birthday. Yeah, time flies, but in his case, it does so with even more alacrity. So I try to remind myself at least once a year that every day he is here is a bonus and a blessing, given that he almost didn't get to be here at all.

If hearing a baby cry and knowing you cannot do anything to provide any comfort is painful, then watching your baby cry and not hearing anything, because he can't make noise because he's on a ventilator that is breathing for him, is pure anguish. But when you get to bring him home and have a birthday party for him for nine years running now, you learn to treasure the sound of his voice.

And his singing? Well, that's just about pure angelic.