You came into our lives as somewhat as a bonus baby for me, some 20 plus years after my own last baby. I felt like I had been given another chance at nurturing an infant. What a gift! It wasn’t long until you had enchanted us with those heartthrob blue eyes of yours and your newfound babble, whose meaning was obscure to the rest of the world.
The years rolled on. As a nine year old you were given the part of Pinocchio in the school play, and you knocked it out of the ballpark. You WERE Pinocchio! You broke your arm twice in the same place, once falling out of a tree and once sailing out of a swing. You told the ER attendants that you were “glad to be in the hands of professionals”. Later as a high school senior, you captured the part of the shopkeeper in “Little Shop of Horrors”.
On your return to New England, we three piled in the car and headed for the Ocean you love so much. The first order of business was seafood at Pete’s, lobster for you. Then back to the rocky shore where you perched on the rocks for a long time, soaking in the beauty of the summer sea. Translucent columns of light rose up from the waters in pillars of light. You in your orange cap, your adoring grandparents watching from the beach.
As you grew, you wrote dystopic novels and drew, drew, drew. Fantastic graphic characters that made my hair stand on end. During COVID, we became a remote lifeline for each other and survived. Now you are off to Northeastern University for goodness knows what. I can’t wait to see what that will be!