Three Years Ago

Lots of people have been remembering where they were three years ago--in the aftermath of Katrina. In spite of my penchant for marinating in news coverage of national crises, I didn't watch much of the Katrina coverage. You see, my sister was scheduled for a C-Section the Wednesday after Labor Day and we were busy purging her lovely garage apartment of every piece of licensed character paraphernalia she had received at her showers. Not because she is some hipster parent who is against licensed characters (just ask Thomas), but because she was a very pregnant woman with a vicious hatred for Winnie the Pooh.

There are a ton of great memories from that week, but every single one is bittersweet. You see, my sister had not followed the path I had always dreamed of for her. I had always dreamed that she would marry one of her beautiful athlete friends and make beautiful, athletic, smart children with him. Pat was my first choice, by the way.

Instead, she had made the choice, at 34, to have a baby she knew was loved and wanted and who would be unwaveringly supported--even if it was only from his maternal side of the family. Unfortunately, the male contributor of DNA is so much less than anything I ever dreamed for my sister, and every single memory of that week is tinged with this knowledge.

I've got two or three different drafts of this post saved. I hesitate to publish anything (I am an attorney. There's a reason my first stop upon them wheeling my sister to the OR that morning was the nurses station for some paper. Present recollection recorded--hearsay exception?) about that time. Then, I decide to go for it and realize that the play by play doesn't matter. The bottom line is that he is an alcoholic and drug addict and unfortunately, having a baby didn't change him one bit.

I called my sister tonight to check in. She and my nephew were looking at pictures together. She said that he is especially enamored with the shots featuring her blood and guts (he is obviously his mother's child). He was very nonchalantly narrating everything for me when suddenly, his voice got very excited: That's YOU, Sissy!

That's right, buddy. I was right there for you from the beginning. I am honored to have spent that first night of your life with you. And, I can promise you that I will remain right there with you for the rest of my life. And in the end, that's all that matters. May you rest secured in the knowledge that you have an army of unwavering support behind you at all times. And may that be enough to make up for any inadequacies. I hope you learn that you never need to look back and check--we'll be right there.

Now, chop chop. You owe me a house in Provence. Let's get to work on that.