Today is Keegan's golden birthday. He said he doesn't feel any different, but I do! It's like a rite of passage or something….I. have. an. 18. year. old. I cannot get it through my head. If he's 18, how old does that make the rest of us? You can do the math, perhaps you'll be as shocked as I am.
This picture was taken when he was a few days old. Born 10 weeks premature, he weighs 3 lbs. 9 ou if you include the weight of the ball.
One day while visiting the NICU, I distinctly heard him ask for a baseball. I called my husband and he brought his from when he was a child. Keegan's breathing slowed and became even. He was at peace.
Thanks to my ability to hear and interpret the chatter of a week old baseball player, Keeg grew up to be a 6'1 pitcher. We kicked that preemie stuff to the curb and never looked back.
He's also a darn fine person. We are blessed beyond reason by the man he has become.
Happy Birthday Googs! You'll always be our baby.
"Pitchers Like Poets Are Born Not Made" – Cy Young