I woke up today the proud father of 12 and 15 year old boys. Somehow, it all seems surreal. How can I be so close to having two teenaged boys? How does time pass so quickly?
My Joe. The best little brother JP could ever ask for. In Joe's eyes, JP can do no wrong. As I've always said, JP is Joe's superhero.
By way of illustration, Joe's advisory teacher at USN, John Kleiner - one of our family's favorite educators of all time - recently shared something Joe had written in class, in which he identified JP as someone he admired. When asked why, Joe has written that "JP always seems to make the right decision." High praise from a little brother, to be sure.
Lord, I miss the days when I strolled Joe around the neighborhood on Saturday and Sunday afternoons while he napped in the City Elite stroller. Those times seem so carefree an innocent in my memory.
Most weekend afternoons, I'd load Joe up in my truck and play Stars and Satellites, Trampled by Turtles 2012 album. Joe would sing alone to the the second song, Alone, his favorite. Even now, I can see him sitting in his car seat behind me, singing the words to himself as he began to doze off. Next, I'd stop on Belmont Boulevard, unfold the City Elite, quickly transfer a sleeping Joe into it, and off we'd go for our afternoon walk.
For me, those days were heavenly. I'll remember and treasure them always.
After an hour and a half or so, Joe would begin to stir and oftentimes I was already in Bongo Java, seated at a table, reading or maybe writing for this blog. One of my barista friends - EJ, George, A.C., Adam, Chuck, Hunter, etc. - the list goes on and on - would fill Joe's sippy cup up with milk. He would smile up at me when I handed it to him, as he began to drink contentedly, looking around in wonder at the students working and talking quietly. He would grab a handful of cheerios from me and all was right in the world.
I remember one spring weekend afternoon in particular, not terribly long after Joe started walking. We ended up in the courtyard of the apartment complex on Belmont Boulevard a block or two down from Bongo Java. Joe was a wearing a light green onesie, as I recall, and as I sat on one of the concrete benches, he teetered in front of me, walking from my bench to the other bench and back again. For some reason, I used my cell phone to video Joe that afternoon, which I too often failed to do.
That memory, though, is so vivid to me. I wonder why some moments - snapshot moments, I've called them - stand out in one's mind so much more than others.
On occasion, after a run, I'll walk down into that courtyard. I can still see Joe, almost like a ghost, walking carefully from cement bench to cement bench. Like a ghost.
Jude and I are so blessed. Joe is such a joy to be around. Funny. The best laugh. Competitive. Kind. Caring. Intelligent with an amazingly expansive vocabulary. A voracious reader. A lover of all sports, just like his brother and just like me. A born leader.
How I could strike the lottery and have two boys, Joe and JP, that are as close to perfect for our family as two boys could be is beyond me.
Happy 12th birthday, Joe. My love for you is endless.
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