For birthdays and Christmas, he doesn’t make a list. Never has. Maybe asks for a specific thing or two but generally leaves it to me.
1/
Before this bday he asked for some walking-around money to do things with his friends but left the rest up to me.
2/
I let it simmer and marinate. I look around and think. And invariably, something clicks and I’m like “YES. That is it.”
This year there were some clothes and a comical volume of socks.
3/
He’s a suddenly passionate basketball fan. The @sixers are his team.
Last year, his drum/line played halftime for them. He met legendary Sixer, Allen Iverson, in the tunnel.
4/
We’ll road trip it down early and hit up Reading Terminal for roast pork at DiNic’s.
Then hit up Jim’s on South Street and split a cheesesteak.
It is going to be a whole thing. A whole day-long thing.
5/
No, I’m more than excited.
I am shining like a new dime.
Childhood memories are like strings of Christmas lights.
Stretches of time un-illuminated interrupted by pops of bright colors. Bright moments. Things remembered in sharpness and color.
7/
But is also a long drive in the car where he’ll play DJ all the way down.
And it’s also a detour for epic sandwiches we’ll talk about long after.
And it’s our first time at an NBA game together.
8/
It’ll be a day that I know he’ll remember long past this year and long past this season.
We will make it so - and so it will be.
I am so damn excited. So. Damn. Excited.
9/9