Today my oldest son turned 13. It is a milestone I have thought about several times over my life, calculating how old I would be when my first teenager appeared. I am stunned by the pace with which I have arrived at this point.
I often reflect on my younger years now and marvel how, whisper-like, they nudged up against me like a gentle breeze, going unnoticed as I basked in the warmth of youth. It is as this draft begins to form a faint swirl before me that I am prompted to look back in amazement. The years are not to be scorned though; it is because of them that I can now look forward with amazement at the lives of my children.
Anyway, happy birthday son; I love you very much.
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