The day of his birth seems like yesterday and another life at the same time.
We like to jokingly call Joshua our “practice child,” and like a lot of jokes, it’s funny because it’s more true than you’d like it to be. It’s also true that I wouldn’t want him to be a different man than the man he has become. That’s not to say he is who I dreamed he would be. I could never have conjured this free-spirited, unassuming human. There are days I find myself longing for one of his out-of-the-blue philosophical text storms. They start as if we were already in full conversation. They start as if I had said something unconsciously that he heard at a great distance. These random thoughts — thrown at me without context — used to catch me off guard. I’d tilt my head slightly and make an odd face at my iPhone, wondering what he wanted. Now I know he just wants to go deep and go there fast. He doesn’t want or need the small talk. He wants to connect, at that specific moment, and not at the surface.
I love this man with all of my being. I’m so very happy he became our practice child 26 years ago on this date, and that somehow, someway, the many mistakes we made along the way helped him become the beautiful soul he is today.
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