A decade on

Buoyant
Thornhill, ON, June 2010

It's been ten years since we welcomed our youngest son, Noah, into the world. It doesn't seem like anything remotely close to a decade, but I suppose the calendar doesn't lie. Babies do indeed grow up, and parents like us are left wondering why time has to move as quickly as it does.

Before tuck-in last night, he came bounding - he doesn't walk as much as he lightly skips from place to place - into our room and proudly told me this was the last time I'd be hugging him as a 9-year-old. He threw his arms around me and squeezed for all he was worth. It wasn't any different than any other night, mind you: He's always been a cuddly, sweet child who never misses an opportunity to say how much he loves us. Still, I held him for just a little longer than usual, wondering how he got so big, and how long it would be before he'd be too old and independent to do the hugging thing with us.

Hopefully not for a while.

After his hug, he found the dog and gave him a hug, too. Frasier doesn't speak English, of course, but something tells me he appreciated the moment just as much as we did. Noah's like that, a connector, someone who finds a way to wind his way into everyone's heart no matter who they are. He's endlessly kind, sharing whatever he has to make sure those around him don't go without. He's a hero to his little cousins, too, the cool Big Noah from London who plays whatever they want from the moment he gets to their house to the moment he leaves. He's a good kid, a gutteh neshumeh - good soul - who reminds me so much of my wife every time I hear him speak.

Call me an inveterate optimist, but I believe good things come to those who are kind, and he is as kind as anyone I've ever met. I hope he carries his sunny nature - we call him Sunshine Boy - well into adulthood, because the world needs more people like him.

Happy 10th birthday, little man. May all your days continue to be happy, and may we always be together to share them with you.

Your turn: Happiness is...?