Usually the eloquent wordsmith, I cannot put together even one cohesive sentence for this post. Two weeks ago, my best friend since the fourth grade (easily one of the absolute most genuine, loving, wholly good people I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing) gave birth to a son. A magnificent, beautiful, perfect little boy she named Holden.
I remember the day Nadia called to tell me she was (finally!) pregnant. I remember screaming. Jumping up and down as if we were nine years old again and had just won tickets to NKOTB. Talks of morning sickness, and hip pain and cravings interspersed with delighted squeals and wild laughter. I remember hanging up the phone, bittersweet joy washing over me; She would give birth in Minnesota and I would be in Austin. 1100 miles from it all.
Circumstance brought me home in time to witness the birth of Nadia’s son. To witness Nadia and her husband Jeff become parents — a family. I cannot describe, using even the most beautiful of languages or the most lyric iambic pentameter exactly how moving this experience has been. How moving it remains…..
“Thank you” seems so inadequate as an expression of my gratitude for these precious moments that you so graciously shared with me. This invitation into the most momentous and sacred moments of your lives. I am forever changed, Nadia. Because of our friendship, because of you, because of this.
Ugh. I just thought I’d click on October 2011 in the archives…secretly knowing this would be in there. Made me smile. again. Made me cry. Again. And not that I needed it…but reminded me how much I love you. That whole experience…will forever stay with me, never forgotten, because of you. Forever in debt. Forever. (I’ll probably push some of that debt onto Holden…but until then…) Love you.