Dean is fourteen today.
And I’m not really sure how we got here. His feet outgrew mine years ago. There is no heel height I can wear that brings me even close to his now-towering presence. He can pick me up effortlessly. No one would ever mistake his voice on the phone for mine or his sister’s anymore. He is becoming a man. Right in front of my eyes.
It’s challenging to write about him here so I typically don’t. Unlike my daughter, who would gladly grab the keyboard from me to type her own guest post, he’s more of a private person. And I intend always to respect that about him. So I’ll just share a couple of old videos I found of him at age three talking up a storm alongside his still-very-silent sidekick-and-little-sister, Vivien. I get teary every time I watch them. He was such a little chatter monkey.
A year ago today, I wrote about Dean’s birth story. It’s not all the nitty-gritty details. Just the important stuff like what I was watching on TV when I went into labor and what I yelled at the nurse at the moment of truth. And I’m sharing it here again today. Maybe I’ll do that every October 16th. After all, it was a life-changing day.
Happy Birthday, Dean.
Bummer that you have exams all week, buddy. But I just know you’re gonna knock ’em out of the park. Love you.
