I’ve heard people say that life is made up of moments. Those moments when you realize some truth, or moments that truly touch you to the core, those are the times that I think we probably reflect back on, or at least the feeling that they provide, at some time when we realize it’s all fleeting.
A few nights ago we loaded up the kids and drove to St. Paul to visit a brewpub that D.Jones and I used to frequent when we were younger and single (or newly married) and could walk from our highrise condo. It was the spot for many a late night cocktail after a show, many a dinner spent planning our wedding, a trip to Europe, or even discussing how life would change when our first baby would be born. We got to know the owner and the staff and it was a place that felt like home. After we got married, when life slowed down a bit because our dreams of expecting our first babe had become a reality, we would walk our Yorkie Lola up to the brewpub patio for a light dinner and they would bring her a bowl of water and maybe even a treat as we sat there wondering how our lives would change in the upcoming months.
Walking in, we both quickly began reminiscing about those times, as the kids sat at the bar, ordered kiddy cocktails and we waited for a seat. Although it’s been 6 years or so since we lived down the street, our old bartender was still there, except this time we had two children in tow and our lives are clearly quite different. He brought them crayons and holiday pictures to color and chatted them up like we were still regulars and we were in some small town local establishment, not the middle of downtown St. Paul. It felt good.
After we left, we decided to head to a drive-through holiday light show for the kids. Enroute, we passed Regions Hospital, the place were Cooper J. made his (quite lengthy) entrance in to the world. Doug and I pointed it out to him and Doug teased “I think I even see the exact window to our room”. Coops asked me some questions about his actual birth, knowing that it involved surgery he’s always curious about some details. He wanted to know if it hurt and I told him “No, not at all. I was too excited to meet you.” He asked “Did you get to meet me, even though you had surgery?” I told him that I did, and that Daddy met him first, but that the nurses and his daddy quickly brought him up to where I could see him and meet him for the first time. He had a few more questions about what happened after that and I explained to him that the nurses thought his daddy was pretty funny because they told him they were going to bring Cooper to the nursery to get him cleaned up and do the normal tests that are necessary, but that his daddy was not having it and insisted he’d go along to make sure everything was okay. Cooper laughed and said “Daddy, didn’t you know that the nurses could take good care of me?” Doug’s answer, through a bit of a choked up voice was “I just wanted to be close to you, buddy. I needed to stay close to you.”
I glanced over and saw Doug smiling and trying to blink back a tear as he remembered that special moment. To him, that is probably one of “those” moments. For me, he’d just created another one.