It’s been at least a week since I have risen well before anyone else in my house, there is just something about the stillness of everyone still sleeping that makes these early morning moments extra special.

Last night, my firstborn and I traveled to Temecula to attend the wedding of his former class teacher. A lovely ceremony overlooking a vineyard, a great group of guests, and a super fun dance party, it was a night we’ll remember for a long time.

He turned thirteen this summer, the day I came home from the hospital. I can no longer see the top of his head. I always knew he would be taller than me, I just never knew how proud I would feel to be shorter than my son! He’s grown into such a fine young man, and he’s so very good to his mama.

When we lost the baby, I was taken aback by the maturity he displayed in those first few confusing, frightening days. He assumed responsibility for his baby brother while I was having surgery, receiving startling text message updates as to my status. There’s been a complication, you’re mother is in intensive care, we’re going to be here longer than we expected. An unexpected rite of passage which he navigated with extreme grace and resilience.

I still owe him a birthday party. After last night, all I can think about is how to transform our house into a discotech. We’ll invite all his friends, turn up the music and turn down the lights, and celebrate belatedly another solar return for my very first baby.

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