Today my son Drew aka Max aka Sill aka Pumpkinface aka Wee Bairn turned forty years old. I can hardly believe the skinny wiggly creature I brought home from the hospital has hit middle age. Early on I realized he was different. He imagines what’s possible, he can fuse disparate thoughts into a new idea, he sees connections the rest of us aren’t attuned to, he’s impatient with the limitations of the present. In short, he inhabits the future, a place I won’t live to see. But isn’t that what it is to be a parent? We feed and house these little people and then shove them out into the world and hope they “make something of themselves” as my dad used to say. When in fact, we hope they make something of the world.
Drew is kind, affectionate, quirky, funny, considerate, thoughtful and loyal and full of ideas. I think the world is lucky to have him. And so are we.
Happy Fortieth, Drew!