Two thousand one hundred and ninety two days ago, my baby boy came into the world.
Sometimes, that seems like a lifetime ago…and for him, I guess it was. But even though I was 35 years old when Hudson was born, it’s hard for me to remember my life before he arrived. I suppose that makes sense when I realize that most of the experiences I had until then were pretty insignificant in comparison. Memories of the holidays, parties and vacations that preceded him have faded like photographs in an old album.
It made me a little sad to think that he’s now 1/3 of the way to 18. Life is harder for Hudson than for most kids and I don’t know where his path will lead. Maybe he’ll go to college or a trade school. Maybe he’ll take the military route or just make his own way in the world. Regardless, I hope that in the next 12 years, I will have done enough as a dad to help him make the right decisions and be happy.
But for today, I just want him to enjoy himself. We had his birthday party last weekend, so this morning when we told him that today was his “real” birthday, he was pretty nonplussed about it. He already had his cake and presents, so today was no big deal. I’m sure he’ll be a bit more excited when he gets home from school and finds out that he still has another cake and a couple of gifts left to open, though. One day, when he holds his first child, memories of sitting at the kitchen table with mom and dad and cakes and toys will fade, too. But I’ll remember them for the rest of my life.
Happy Birthday, Hudson. No matter how old you are, you’ll always be my baby boy.