Yesterday, J.P. turned 5 years old. I'm astonished almost beyond words at how quickly 5 years have passed by. 5 years and 1 day ago, at 11:11 a.m., I heard him cry for the first time, then I looked at Jude on the operating table and we cried together. The nurse swaddled J.P. tightly and laid him on Jude's chest for a moment, then she handed him to me with instructions to follow her to the nursery.
I was terrified, as I dutifully followed the nurse down the hall. Terrified I would drop my son or that I would hold him so tightly I might hurt him. Truly, I had never felt so inadequate in all of my life. I felt helpless and out of control, kind of like I feel right now, when I think of J.P. turning 5 years of age.
To celebrate, we had a family breakfast at Bongo Java. The 4 of us, sitting at our usual table in the back. As anyone who reads my blog regularly knows, Bongo Java is the center of my universe. Since I've lived downtown and especially since J.P. was born, I've spent more time here than anywhere else, outside of my house and my office. I've been called Bongo Java's most loyal customer and that's probably true.
J.P. has been coming to Bongo Java with me, literally, since he was old enough to ride in my stroller ("the City Elite"). We've had breakfast together here (yes, I'm at Bongo Java now, blogging and drinking coffee) almost every Sunday morning for as long as I can remember. He tried bacon, bagels and hash browns for the first time at Bongo Java (and liked them all). J.P.'s been befriended by so many employees, too many to mention them all, but people like . . . Chad, Megan, Chuck, Jackson, Mitch, Rachel, Sara and Sarah, Ryan, E.J., Adam, Taylor. Most of them are gone, but not forgotten.
The really cool thing is that J.P. and Bongo Java share the same birthday. Coincidence, I think not. In fact, the same day J.P. turned 5, Bongo Java turned 20! When we came down for breakfast yesterday, we met, for the first time in all these years, Bob Bernstein, the owner. He was here with his two sons (a little older than mine) handing out 20th birthday posters and coffee mugs. I introduced myself and told him how much Bongo Java meant to me, and to my sons. It was a nice moment, one to remember.
Without question, the hit of the day for J.P., as far as birthday presents go, was the Nashville Predators' hockey helmet/mask. J.P actually wore it inside Bongo Java to show everyone. On the way home from baseball practice that afternoon, he was sitting in the back of my SUV, riding in silence. When I asked him what he was thinking about, as he looked out the window, his chin in his hand, he said, "my hockey mask." I chuckled a little and left him to his thoughts.
I hope it's always that easy to make J.P. happy.
J.P. is so many things. Whip smart. Talkative. Curious and inquisitive. Funny. Emotional and quick tempered, at times (like his old man). Loving and caring (especially to his little brother). Friendly. Intense. Talented. Photogenic (like his mother). Cute. Stubborn, at times (like his old man and his mother). Contemplative. Thoughtful. Kind.
J.P. loves so many things. Music. Sports. Family. Reading. School. Legos. Playing outside. Cleaning (or pretending to clean). Gardening. Raking leaves. Laughing. Singing. Milk. The Nashville Predators. Doughnut holes. Uncle Carley and Jonny Love. Las paletas popsicles. Cheese quesadillas. Waffles. Belmont and Vanderbilt basketball. The Creation Gardens truck. Construction equipment.
Everywhere I go in our neighborhood, I see ghosts. Ghosts of J.P. and I walking, talking, playing or just hanging out together. When I go for a run, I see myself walking with him sleeping in my stroller. When I stop in Bongo Java for a cup of coffee, I see us there together.
When I walk across Belmont's campus, I see us playing on the soccer field that is no longer there. I see him learning to walk on the soccer field, stumbling and falling in the soft grass, then getting up and trying again. I see him talking to Belmont students sitting in the grass as the sun sets, playing guitar. I see us playing soccer together. When I to inside the student center at Belmont, I see us everywhere, pretending to be students, pretending to be going to the doctor and pretending to take final exams.
On and on it goes. Life. The years drift by, one stacked on top of the other, and my son grows up. And I love every minute of it.
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