There is something unmistakable about the way the light falls in early September, about the smells of late summer, about the way the lawns have gotten shaggy as the mowers get weary, and everyone longs for a fresh beginning, vows to start again with newly sharpened pencils and a future full of potential...
It was in the pre-dawn darkness of a day like this when my first son came into the world. Ten years ago, at the end of that day, I was chin-deep in the reality of his unexpected arrival, captured in my essay, Hayden's Story.
Ten years ago, things looked pretty bleak, yet in a blink, we've had a decade of wonder.
The way the light falls in early September brings with it the bittersweet of new beginnings, the memories of what was almost an ending, the first fragile weeks of our parenthood and the tragedy for the thousands of Sept 11th. Each year that passes, we lay down new memories on this day and create distance between what was and what is. It is easier now to remember the feelings of that time, and cherish the miracles and gifts we have been given in the years since.
In light of that, the first week of September, we celebrate Birthday Week, where Hayden, Max and I all have important milestone days. We invite friends and family over for feasting and pond swimming and bouncing and roughousing and celebrating, and we bake enough so that we can have cake for breakfast all week long.
Happy birthday to my darling boys and happy holiday weekend to you all!