Today is Toby's birthday. Not the big one... yet. This year, we're happily homebound, so we had a quiet homemade dinner. We were talking tonight about how old he was when we met. Twenty-five. TWENTY-FIVE! I had just moved to San Francisco, post-college... I was just 23. He was Mister San Francisco City Kid Cool Guy. Self-sufficient, walked everywhere. Owned his own company. Probably went to indy rock shows every night. Mission kid. I was such a newbie... fascinated by it all.
We've both changed in certain ways since then... new situations but same essentials. Above is how I know him now, in his present incarnation. Wonderful, nurturing father. Comforting, calming presence.
Happy Birthday, Toby.