Danny Boy

I've been nursing a feeling of sadness lately and I haven't quite been able to put my finger on the reason. Then, last night my daughter went off with some friends to the David Archuleta concert and my wife and I ate our dinner with our son Daniel. That's when it hit me...in a few short weeks, this is how it's going to be from now on. Except for a few holiday meals and some trips home during the summer, from now on, it will be just us three at the table.

And, even though the emotion was purely selfish, I have never been more grateful to have a child who would never leave and always be at home with his mother and I.

When you first have a child, you pray that they will have all ten fingers and ten toes and be completely healthy and 'normal'. When you find out that God didn't quite grant you all of your initial hope, your next hope is that they won't realize that they aren't like the other kids.

Daniel missed out on both of those accounts and through the years, when the kids his age began to reach milestones like baptism, priesthood, missions, marriage...Daniel would come to his mother and I and wonder when he was going to be able to partake of those blessings.

For years, I have felt like Gepetto with a son I love very much whose only wish is to be, "a real boy".

But even though it's been painful while he was growing up. Daniel has more or less come to terms with his condition and, along with his mother and I, has come to accept that this is the way it will be.

Is it wrong for me to be happy that he will always be at our dinner table? Children are supposed to grow up and leave and parents are supposed to want that for them but I confess that I am selfish in this respect.

I don't want any of them to leave and, while I could do nothing to prevent John-Ross and Sarah from growing up and taking their place in this world...I am going to find a great deal of comfort in Daniel always being here.

I heard a story once about a certain song.

It is the story of an old irishman whose wife had passed and left him with three sons to raise. In those days, his country was at war and when the county levy for young men to enter into the army was to be filled, it was announced by parades and bagpipes calling the young men off to war.

The old man's first son grew into manhood and the bagpipes came, calling him off to serve and, even though he served with honor, he dies in battle leaving the old man grief-striken but finding comfort in his remaining two sons.

As time passed, the bagpipes came once again calling the young men off to war and this time it was the second son's turn to go...and he also failed to return.

After a few more seasons had passed, the bagpipes came once again, calling the young men off to war. And this time, before he let him go, the old man took his only remaining son aside, and sang to him, the world's most beautiful love song

Oh Danny Boy
The pipes, the pipes are calling
from glen to glen
and down the mountainside
the summer's gone
and all the roses falling
'tis you, 'tis you
must go, and I must bide

But come ye back
when spring is in the meadow
or when the valley's hushed
and white with snow

'tis I'll be here
in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny Boy Oh Danny Boy
I love you so

When my wife and I heard that story, we told each other that if we ever had another son, we would name him after that song.

We didn't know how ironic it would be that the son we named after that song would be the son that would stay with us always.