Eleven Years Ago

Two days ago, my brother Paul became a father.

And it happened in the same hospital, in the same city, where exactly eleven years ago today, I became a mother.

Seeing the photos and following the Google+ updates as he and his wife, Betty, step over the threshold into a new life with tiny Charlotte Kate [daddy a student; mama putting him through, just as we were then] makes it seem impossible that only eleven years ago, that was us. Having arrived at the finish line of the pregnancy, bursting through the tape with a dramatic birth story, we were awakening to the fact that we had really only made it to the starting gate. In the grip of love and fear, our journey with our son began.

Just as theirs is now beginning.

When we left Brigham and Women's Hospital with our bundle in arms two days later, how could I imagine that eleven years would bring us here ... to this?

This boy is over halfway to official adulthood.

In two years, he'll be a teenager.

In five years, he'll have a license to drive.

He is a brown belt in tae kwon do.

He may not know it, really, but his best friend is his sister, who listens to everything he has to say (which is quite a bit) and loves him unconditionally.

He love Legos, Star Wars, and especially, Lego Star Wars.

He likes to have his dad around, and has stated as much.

He's quite artistic, with a distinct flair for the dramatic. (Including dramatic distaste for haircuts.)

He is learning perseverance, diligence, acceptance, table manners. All in due time.

And because of who he is, we are not who we were eleven years ago.

Welcome aboard, my brother.

And happy birthday, my son!