The Inside Rail

Quiet house.

Trying to write before I do anything else, well, not before coffee. As one of my friends says about running, “You have to do it in the morning. It’s the only time that’s your time. The rest of the day is their time. But the morning, that’s your time.”

Well, I’m not running. Perhaps I can write

Miles turned 11 yesterday. Birthdays are for kids. Cookies for school. Candles on a cake. Phone calls from relatives around the country. Presents to unwrap. For a child, it's a time to revel. For a parent, it's a time to reflect. To think back to 11 years ago when Annie and I were at Christiana Medical Center, wondering and worrying about what was coming next. Miles came into this world smoothly, a few hours after midnight. It’s gone smoothly ever since, a few moments of panic (hernia surgery, a 911 call in the middle of the night when he couldn’t stop coughing, an unusual infatuation with the mind-altering Frozen…) but that’s about all.

Our lives have been enriched, defined. Like all parents.