Kesh was twenty four when Roo was born and now she is twenty five.
It's because of her constant giving that each time Kesh has a birthday, I try to give her something that shows her what it feels like to be a recipient of a love like hers. I want her to know how she makes me feel every time I see her holding Roo in her arms, settling his worries at 3am.
This year, Kesh's birthday fell on the same day as her Pa's funeral. It seemed right that Kesh would share her day with her Pa. We sat together in a small church, perched on a hill with the ocean at its feet. Holding Roo close to me, I considered his tiny body - small enough to to be held in Kesh's and now to rest on mine. While Kesh's Dad spoke true and kind words of his own father, I hoped that Roo would one day know of this moment in his life. Of this time where I felt true love for his Mum and failed to comprehend just how much he meant to me because he means so much.
Kesh never offered one word but of gratitude that her Pa's funeral was on her birthday.
The following day, we went to the city. We held hands, while we pushed Roo by the Harbour. Kesh fed and changed Roo in and around the MCA, before we ate delicious plates of sushi and realised the beauty of the creation of all things at the aquarium.
Two days after that, I gave Kesh her birthday present. We walked down to our spot and Kesh held my hand a little tighter when she spotted a young family.
'Who is that,' I asked her, already knowing the answer.
Sarah's music has been played in our home during Kesh's pregnancy with Roo, in the labour ward during the birth and even now. Kesh had tried to make it to one of her shows a few times and was disheartened each time it didn't work out. Her music has special meaning to Kesh and to me.
As Sarah sang there, on that hill, both she and Kesh cried tears of Mothers who understand each other.
