Nights of Wonder

Sleepless nights were part of the life of being Aaron's mom and dad. May 5, 1987 and January 22, 2005 are two exact dates we will always remember. Both nights preceded Aaron's arrival; May 5th, his first and January 22nd, his last.

Cathy and I were 27 years old and soon to be first time parents. All of the excitement of anticipation vanished around 5:00 pm on May 5th, 1987. We ate dinner at a restaurant in somber silence. Maybe one of us was afraid of the impending delivery, and one of us might have been fearing the imposition of a shorty. I can't say who feared what, but we both knew with the end of Aaron's 9 month and a couple of week extended stay in the cozy confines of his mother's womb, our days of independence were OVER.

Two years ago tonight our Aaron was coming home again. This time a full grown 6'-2" 185 lb young man was entering our world of peace and harmony courtesy of Northwest Airlines after a 13 month stay in the cozy confines of Mount Bachelor Academy, Prineville, OR. This time Air Bear was 7 weeks early. He was expected to finish MBA in March. I was ready for a March arrival.

Cathy and I went to sleep worrying about the furture and the future was tomorrow. Cathy was the first to wake up on the 23rd. She had a brilliant moment of clarity and Cathy was excited to share her awareness with me: We were fearing the future, thinking about the past, and forgetting about the present. Trepidation was conceived by living in everywhere but the present. We needed to live in the moment; be glad our son was coming home. Be grateful he had a year of beautiful growth and learning. Be happy his brother was getting his brother back. Be present for Aaron and Patrick. Be in the present with our thoughts. Savor the moment.

I remember how bright the morning was that day two years ago. The afternoon came soon enough and Cathy and I went to the airport to meet our big boy. Patrick took a baby sitting job at the neighbors. Aaron arrived, on time or not, I don't recall. He did have less luggage than I expected. "We'll have to go back to get the rest Dad, this is all I could pack." His bags were full of souviner dirty underwear and socks from friends he left behind. They sent some of their most personal belongings along with him. Of course, Aaron had no room for my Pentax SLR camera I loaned, the favorite books I shared, or his better clothes we bought. I understood he couldn't carry his snow board, boots, or ski jacket. OK, we'll go back to pick those things up in the spring.

Cathy's moment of zen gave us just what we needed to feel the way parents should feel; the way parents should greet their children. We joked about the prodigal son returning home. Aaron wanted no fan fare. He was glad to be home. Right away he walked across the street to see his brother. I think the little boys Patrick was in charge of were surprised by this jean jacket, moccassin wearing, shaggy haired guy with a strange accent coming into their home.

Within a couple of hours, Patrick and Aaron walked into our house through the front door. Neither a shorty anymore, both boys held an admiration for the other. Our boys were home. We were in the present and life was good.

Aaron would say---Peace and Love.

Sleep in peace
Tom