When you were born Feb. 20, I was elated. A lot of things ran through my mind at once when I thought about you, mostly pride and a plan to travel the length of the country twice in a weekend to see you.
My pride has only deepened in the six days you’ve been here, especially since I heard you’ve already peed on your mama.
My plan didn’t happen, but there’s another one in the works and we’ve been officially introduced on FaceTime.
Since I wrote to your sisters shortly after they were born, I thought I’d try to write down some things you might need to know about life.
I went to watch a play Saturday night.
It was the first time I attended a live play put on by professional actors since a school field trip to the Alabama Shakespeare Festival.
The trip I took to Montgomery with the rest of the ninth-grade class is a pleasant memory except for one thing.
Last night I listened to the rain for a while before I realized I had nothing substantial to put in this post and my mind drifted to muses.
Mythological muses were known for inspiration.
It turns out muses are no different in the real world.
Time is a funny thing.
Sometimes it goes slow. Sometimes it goes by in a blink.
We think we have all of the time in the world, but we are guaranteed only this moment.
I’ve been jarred by the reality of how brief life really is on more than one occasion.
One such reminder came while I took notes on a high school basketball game.
I haven’t looked at life the same way since.