A friend married this weekend and he put together a slide show of childhood photos of he and his wife to show at the reception. As baby pictures and other photographs of his early childhood childhood flashed up on the screen, I recognized my own sons in those pictures. Although I didn't know James as a child, there he was, sleeping peacefully in his crib, making a fort out of a cardboard box, goofing off, clutching a stuffed animal, just like my children do now. And it hit me, my little boys will grow up some day.
After the slide show ended, the couple began their first dance together and James' mom happened to stand next to me as she waited to dance with her son. I told her that I gathered that when she took those pictures, she couldn't imagine James as an adult, nonetheless a married adult, anymore than I can imagine my little boys as adults. She shook her head in disbelief. And yet it still feels so far away, the possibility that I could be in this fellow mom's shoes, who at one time was rocking her son to sleep and seemingly moments later, was dancing with him on his wedding day.
Kiera, Matteo, Oliver and Soren
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