Deep Thoughts

I've been listening to a CD of the Orthodox funeral service. In one of the hymns is this line: "Where is that joy which is un-mixed with sorrow?" That is exactly the feeling I have watching the boy grow up. The little baby who's feet I held in one hand for hours in the hospital (they were cold and needed to be warmed) is gone. Now I have a little boy who runs and jumps and yells, who makes messes, and can count to 12, who can tell me me that Muscat grapes are "my very best favorite". But thankfully, he still says "kankyou". I think I might cry the first time I hear him say "thank you". Of course, I'm glad he is growing bigger, stronger, smarter, kinder. But where is that joy which is un-mixed with sorrow?