Landon's birthday

I was thirty-three when I finally married. I never thought I would find anyone. It was by God's providence Jessica, my sisters second daughter, was admitted to Shands as a little girl, with Melanie being her nurse. Naturally, my mother and sister immediately started match making. I got up the nerve to ask her to the July 4th fanfare and fireworks at UF, but she turned me down. She was dating a doctor at the time. And so, it was a year later, after returning from a trip to St Marks, where I had found a note in a bottle, that I found in my mailbox, a letter from Melanie. She remembered that I had taken photographs of the zoo for Jessica and posted them in her room, that she had recently purchased a 'Cannon' camera, would I teach her something about photography.
The rest was history culminating in our marriage and the birth of Landon Randolph, his middle name given to him while in labor, after the grandfather on her daddy's side, Randolph Eatman.
The Landon we used, because we wanted to honor my father with his initials, Luther Ray.
Today was Landon's twenty-fifth birthday. He marks our life together as he was conceived before we were married. He is the reason I am married. I would have continued to drag my feet and avoid responsibility. When he was born, that magical change occurred in me that turned me overnight into a doting father. I did the best I could working all the time with JCPenney, a job I never really cared for, but it paid well enough to allow Melanie in the early years to be able and work part-time.
On hindsight, all the long hours, while allowing the lifestyle, also kept me perhaps from making that tight bond with Landon, of which we now find severed.
When Landon married, we were ready to let him go. But what we did not imagine, was the extent Amber, his wife, would take him. She has all but erased all people from his life, including family and his friends. And so it grieves us greatly, especially now that they have a grandson we so dearly loved and bonded with.
Our lives since March have been an undercurrent of constant hope and sorrow. Events came and went and still no call, no email, nothing.
And we continue to pray, never swaying in the hope that at some point, he will come to his senses and return.