Every detail of the moment I heard he was about to make me a father is perfectly preserved in my memory: receiving a call from our social worker telling me we had been matched with a healthy baby boy, calling Kelly to tell him, and then calling Teresa, my work wife, and bellowing, "WE'VE BEEN MATCHED! WE'RE GETTING A BABY!"
The first time we laid eyes on him he was in a Johnny Jumper at his foster mom Shirley's house. I remember thinking - like all babies - he looked like an old man. Now - FLASH - he's 10.
That little baby I used to carry in a backpack, now hits me just shy of my shoulder.
I am so proud of the young man he's becoming. The kid who sticks up for his brother (most of the time). The guy, who finds a friend in every new acquaintance. The athlete, who has so much heart. The comedian, who laughs so hard at Jack Black and Pink Panther movies that he literally falls to the ground guffawing. The romeo, who gets all giggly and denies a bit too strongly any attraction when a particular girl is mentioned. The son, who loves nothing more than going on a run with his dad.
As he enters his second decade, I realize that some of our most trying and difficult years are approaching. But I want to remind myself that the man he'll become is going to be awesome. He always has been.
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