The sea was angry that day.

Oh, no. That’s another story. What do I remember about it? How can I ever forget. The day PJ entered the world was the happiest day of my life. I knew instantly that I finally would have someone of equal intelligence and stellar vocabulary skills in my household.

Well, that’s one take on it. Another would be that it really wasn’t such an auspicious and memorable event. I can remember thinking “Oh, God, another C-section, another boy, another Saturday ruined”. Patrick arrived after about 6 hours of waiting for him to initiate a few contractions. The obstetrician wanted to avoid another C-section and started an induced labor process. But Patrick wouldn’t cooperate, apparently not concerned that his mother would have to again go under the knife, all because of some casual sex we had a number of months ago.. This behavior trait of having a mind of his own has stayed with Patrick to this day. 

When he finally did come out of the closet he weighed over 9 pounds, our heaviest baby. I thought he might grow to be nose tackle size, but instead he’s turned out to be more of a beanpole dimension. I did lounge in an expectant father waiting room during his birth, watching an Oriole game. I was all alone there, no family members and no other expectant fathers (no surprise there as it was a sunny summer Saturday and there were lawns to be mowed). Unlike the experience with Chris, I did not have to go to a nursery window to first see the newborn heir. A nurse brought PJ to the waiting room so I could have face-to-face contact. Nice touch there, but the moment was ruined when I saw he still had some blood on his head. I told the nurse “take that dude back and clean him up, for Christsakes”.

The day we took him home we stopped first at Grandma Sylvia’s house as it was just a stone’s throw from Holy Cross Hospital. Our 3-year old was there. He was disappointed that the little playmate we promised him was not a puppy, but he felt better when I assured him that he would always be our favorite (which was true for the next seven years). After that we went to our new home in Gaithersburg where Patrick formed many childhood friendships. Well, there was Lamar anyway. Mom again bore most of the burden of caring for an infant. Patrick adapted quickly and in an all-out enthusiastic manner to breastfeeding for a few years. It was his first addiction. Aside from singing lullabies to him (which I’m sure fostered his interest in music), PJ and I didn’t have much of a relationship during his childhood, until one day when he followed me to the tennis court and begged me to show him how to put topspin on the ball. The rest, as they say, is history.