The first time I saw him, smelled him, held him, he was still sticky and white, had black squiggly hair, and I remember it like it just happened a second ago. That moment, I fell so deep in love with this being that we had made, I never wanted him out of my sight. I never knew you could love someone like that.
People would look at him in the grocery store, you know, admiring a new baby and all, and if they lingered too long, I was afraid they were trying to steal him from me.
I felt like we were the only two people in the world for a long time. Just him, and I.
There is something about your first child. You are in rapture, and wondering "what in the world did I just do?" all at the same time.
To see him today, in his glory, playing golf with his father and his new club, gets me.
He is going to grow up, I can't keep him small, and sheltered.