February 9, 2022
Dearest Son,
“God probably kept the dust
he used in making you in the jar he loves most for a long time before making you.
Happy birthday to you, our amazing son.”
Today you are 51 years and
counting, you are at the point in your life where you have all you need and
want, we can no longer give you a gift to open and watch your eyes light up
with delight and joy!
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| Your 1st Birthday, Norris Tennessee |
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| Our favorite 'Son' at 50 |
“Time is short and it doesn't return again. It is slipping away while I write this and while you read it, and the monosyllable of the clock is Loss, Loss, Loss, unless you devote your heart to its opposition.” ~
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| Your first home, Clarksville Tennessee |
As I sat down to write this, I had turned on Pandora and lo and behold one of my favorite classical tunes Clair de Lune by Claude Debussy began playing; bringing to light, that there are so many things Chris, even after 51 years of having us as your earthly parents and care givers, that you do not know about me and your dad. We as human beings are not the best sharers of information and so many small integral factors of who, what and why we are, are forever lost when we make our way to the next plain in this massive universe to which we were born.
When I was a senior in high school, I was given the opportunity to take a classical musical appreciation class as an elective that was offered through the local library in Cheyenne, Wyoming. It was a heavenly gift, designed, it seemed to me, especially for me. To get the opportunity to listen to, to become immersed in, and to somewhat understand how the music was created by some divinely talented and gifted artist of the previous century’s was a blessing and a gift. The other part was that it was at the large city library that I would walk to from the high school to participate in the class. I was in awe of this beautiful library with its lovely circular staircases and rows upon rows of books, of quiet solitude. I loved books and the interplay of words upon the pages that allowed me to step outside of myself as it imparted wisdom, knowledge and descriptions of people, places, and things I had yet to meet, that you could visit all within your imagination, and because of that, I had a hidden desire and a life goal to one day to work in a library like this one as a librarian.
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| Linda Johnson, 1967 before she was a Lane |
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| I Baby sat a family of 7 children everyday during the summer of my Junior year, so I could earn enough money to personally go shopping in downtown Cheyenne, Wyoming and purchase my school outfits for my Senior year. Those were the days when you dressed up for school, 1966 |
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| A boyfriend of mine snapped this picture of me and my Dad at Frontier Days, and sent it to me in a funny card 1965 |
I am not sure why I have had
and still do have an affinity for libraries. Perhaps it was because growing up
we were moving from place to place and libraries always felt like home, the buildings
were different but what they contained, the wonderful allure of row upon row of
books was a sanctuary, a safe zone, a comforting place of normalcy regardless of
where it was located.
Enough about me. Today is
your day, as you know I feel like God gives each of us a personal day when we
are celebrated, it is our day. It is the day when God and all his ministering
angels gather around the piano or the guitar and sing Hallelujah. So, today, as
your Mom, the one who had the privilege of knowing you and carrying you within me,
for almost nine months in your own personal sanctuary, I am saying your given
name Christopher Todd Lane, and I am shouting and praising and thanking God for
the gift of the one and only YOU. Happy 51st dearest one. Our hearts,
and our unconditional love are with you today and always.
Mom, here at home…
Your Dad, I am of a certainty is soaring
with the wind wherever you are, as his spirit is your constant and abiding
ministering angel, watching over and protecting our favorite son
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| Your Dad was so very tender with his new born son, he loved you so... |
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| Such a silly picture of 1971 when big hair was the rage and your God Mother Cheryl Kling, was a hair dresser and she lived right next door, so she said let's get you gussied up, so we did and this was the result... |
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| This picture has always touched my heart... |
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| Oh Minnie you did cast a spell on him, and he has never ever been the same ... |
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| Your Dad and his guitar and his most treasured son. |
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| The three of us in Norris, oh so long ago... |
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| Norris, your Dad in his TVA Public Safety Uniform and you wearing his hat |
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| Chris, old paint, and Tuffy your shaggy Dog, given to you by Uncle Butch |
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| Three generations of Lane's Your Dad, Your Papa Shad, and you, the first born son and grandson |
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| Always so happy and smiling, that has not changed. Norris, a quilt made for you by Great Aunt Mary Wallace Splittgerber |
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| California, Granny Lane and her much loved grandson |
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| Norris Dam, Your Christening Day in the Methodist Church Uncle Jim, Uncle Andy, Papa Johnson, Granny Johnson |
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| Uncle Butch, and his nephew |
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| Mom and her dearest son, such a wonderful picture taken by your Dad's artistic eye. |
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| Before you were born, I had a premonition and a visualization of this photo that came to pass, I always felt like God was showing me what was to come. |
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| Mom and her dearest son 2021 |
Son and Dad, 2009, there was so many more adventures to be had but that was not in God's plan, so you carry on and live life to the fullest and rejoice in the time you had together, and share the stories of the way it was...and it was...
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'There is a time to speak up, and a time to be silent. A time to read and a time to write. A time to learn and a time to teach. A time to listen and a time to be heard. A time to lose and a time to gain. And for all of these things the time is now'. God Bless. LSJL
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