Jim,
Time is a strange thing right now. As we celebrate your birthday, we have been sheltering in place for 7 or 8 weeks and the days kind of blur together. The weeks simultaneously fly by and seem to stretch on for eons. So the attempt to convey what it feels like for you to be 10 years old seems odd. Yet as I write this down, it feels all too appropriate. Because it seems like your first decade with us started moments ago and it also feels like you’ve always been here.
I can still remember sleeping on a hospital couch as we waited for you to be born and holding you for the first time. I can close my eyes and picture the radiant May morning when we brought you home with “Strawberry Swing” playing over the stereo and the world feeling like it was nothing but infinite possibility. And I find it hard to believe that beautiful baby boy has now hit double digits.
Yet you are 10 and we’ve seen the tell-tale signs of growing up in the last few months. You’ve gotten a little bit taller. It’s getting a little bit more difficult to heft you up to hug you like I used to. And then we gave you a quarantine buzzcut and you seemed to immediately age a couple of years in minutes. Part of me wants to pump the brakes on it. You can’t really play tug-of-war with time though I know many a parent has tried.