On Saturday, my nephew David turns 5. Five years ago, my husband and I had just disembarked from a cruise ship, and barely made it through customs (where cell phones are not allowed) when my phone began to ring. I answered it to hear both my mother’s tears, and Davey’s first cries too. There I stood, in the middle of a sidewalk at New York City’s cruise pier, crying my eyes out.
Four months later, I met Davey for the first time. We gathered at Canyon Lake, Texas, a place that my sister and I spent the majority of our childhood summers, spring breaks, and long weekends. Chellee and Jeremy walked out of their cabin, and put a little baby wearing only a diaper into my arms. He promptly threw up on me.