I woke up early this morning thinking about what I was doing at this time 15 years ago.
I was lying in a hospital bed in downtown Manhattan, with my first-born sleeping peacefully in my arms after having been surgically extracted from my uterus a few hours earlier.
He looked like a hairy little monkey.
And I was already in love.
A decade and a half later, we’re getting ready to head out today to the Department of Motor Vehicles for another rite of passage. His driving tests have all been passed online. He just needs to have his picture taken. And then we’ll be off to lunch. His choice. I bet it will be sushi. He loves Ikura. The raw giant fish eggs.
It’ll be his third 15th birthday celebration. His friends came over on Saturday for a day of basketball, football and pizza. He went to a party last night where he and his cousin, two years older but born on the same day, were feted by lots of family.
And now, today, he’ll have his celebratory Learner’s Permit lunch. There will be one more party tonight at his grandparents’ house and then he’s off on vacation with his sister, his father, his father’s girlfriend and her kids. Some place warm and beachy for the Spring Break week.
He is much loved.
One of my favorite pieces I have written about him is A Glass of Ice Water, in celebration of his 13th birthday. Please read it. More so than what I wrote last week, it is a window in to his persona and in to my relationship with him.
One of my most constantly changing relationships.
And one of my most cherished relationships.
My heart bursts.
Image via takahito/Flickr.com