29 years ago on a Sunday morning our lives changed forever with the birth of our first born. I don’t have an interesting story to tell him about the trip to the hospital or the labour and delivery. I do, however, remember the feeling of absolute joy to hold this baby in my arms.
He was a typical boy, full of energy and enthusiasm. Sometimes he had more of that than he had good judgement and it occasionally got him into scraps. He was, and still is, a chip off my block with his outgoing personality. He has a wide and varied network of friends with whom he shares passions with. He’s kind of into fast sports like mountain biking (or any kind of rugged twisty jumping stuff biking), back country skiing (or any kind of mountain skiing really) and sledding. He’s into beer and scotch and I know he shares a “few” of those with his friends as well. He combined a family reunion in England with a trip to Scotland for mountain biking and time at the Oban Distillery.
He would give you the shirt off his back and his sense of humour is rather like his father’s so this sentence would lead to a comment like “why do you need it”. Ah yes, Cruikshank men. He is also quite forgiving, I’m not saying he’s going to forget but he will move on. He is also willing to do whatever needs to be done. He might give you a big sigh and some sassy comment first but he will do it.
He’s found a trade that uses his head and his hands which suits him well. He’s made a home for himself and finally has his puppy. He’s found a young lady who is good for him and to him.
There’s a standing joke about/with Spencer always being the last to know the latest news in our family. Well this is no joke and it isn’t news to him, I hope, that I love him to the moon and back.