I remember when she was in diapers...

Pat: I remember when you wore diapers and sucked Mommy's boobs.

Devina: Yeah, I miss those days.

******

I made it back in time for Devina’s 7th birthday.

I recently hung out with my parents in Griffin, Georgia – 40 miles south of Atlanta – for five weeks while Anita and the kids held down the fort here in Lansing. I made the taxing 13-hour return trip north on boring old I-75 last Monday in order to make it back in time for Valentine’s Day and my youngest daughter’s birthday, which is today.

Note: the State of Tennessee may bill itself as the “Volunteer State” but the employees at the service station with the malfunctioning gas pump where I tried to refuel on the way home sure didn’t volunteer to assist a weary, exasperated traveler. I had to ask for help not two or three but four times before an employee begrudgingly accompanied me to my car and jiggled the pump handle (in a special way that I would never have figured out by myself) until the pump came to life. Thanks a lot, Tennessee.

I realized a number of things while I was down south:

* I really lucked out in the parent department. My mom and dad knew exactly when to give me space and when to require my time and attention. I had forgotten what a great cook my mom is. Winters in Atlanta are significantly milder and more bearable than the frigid, snowy, bone-chilling hell that is January in mid-Michigan. And my parents deserve much more than I can offer as thanks for their unconditional love, support and wisdom.

* It’s far too easy to take things for granted, to underestimate one’s good fortune and assign too much power to one’s challenges and frustrations, to make the wrong choices and end up losing the one thing you discover that you can’t live without. Joni Mitchell was spot-on back in 1970 when she sang, “You don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone.” I’m luckier than I can convey that I was able to get it back.

* While not perfect, my partner is more amazing, loving, compatible, sensitive, tolerant, dedicated and wonderful than anyone I’ve ever known or will ever meet. It’s empirical that I don’t deserve her and I’m a complete and utter fool for jeopardizing my connection to her.

* My son and daughters are as remarkable as children can be. Instead of celebrating what makes them unique and fantastic and awesome in the true sense of the word, I focused on what I thought needed improving, fixing, altering. Instead of recognizing how sweet and smart and personable and well-behaved my kids are, I fixated on what I wanted to change and when it didn’t happen soon enough, I decided to get angry and disappointed instead of reveling in how blessed I am to be sharing a house with them, to be a member of their family, to get to wake up to them every morning and kiss them goodnight each and every night.

* Time passes so quickly. As any parent knows, they’ll be gone before I know it and I’ll be wishing I could pick their wet towels up off the floor and put their dirty dishes in the sink and trip over the backpacks they left in the middle of the foyer again. Why can’t I remember what’s important and what doesn’t really matter in the whole scheme of things? Why can’t I let the small stuff go?

Maybe I should walk around wearing a sign around my neck that says, “People would pay big money for what you lucked into, you stupid sh*t. Act accordingly.”

Because Devina’s actually with her birth father today, we celebrated her special day yesterday with cupcakes at school and a memorable party at the Michigan Athletic Club last night, complete with pizza, pop, party favors, presents and 12 little pals. I think she had a nice time; she told me afterward that swimming in the pool with her friends was her favorite thing and she couldn’t think of a single thing she didn’t like.

A special line or two about the birthday girl: Devina is the most charming, likable, enjoyable, intelligent, sassy little newly-seven-year-old I know. She recently lost a front tooth so her radiant smile – which was already amazing because of her deep dimples – is even more adorable than usual. And she smiles a lot.

She smiles when she wakes up because it’s good to be alive. She smiles when she sees Ben and Jerry, our puppies, because...well, because they’re cute puppies. She smiles because she’s happy or she’s made a joke – her sense of humor is advanced, of course – or she’s experienced something cool or thought of something neat or she’s seen something funny or just because she’s Cool D. and that’s what Cool D. does: she smiles a lot. She’s made of goodness and smarts and charm and spunk and sassiness and beauty and happiness so she smiles. And I’d sooner die than be 700 miles away from my smiling Cool D. on her birthday.

I’m such a lucky man. I’ll be trying harder to remember this from now on.

Happy 7th birthday, Darling Devina.