Yesterday, Kevin, Oliver and I stopped in to City Hall to take a look at the winter wonderland of the Festival of Trees. It was magical: Softly lit with paper stars hung from the ceiling that moved in mysterious air currents, friends and family milling around, live music playing onstage and, of course, the trees up for auction. My mom, who passed away years ago, would have loved all the Christmas spirit on display.
Unexpectedly, we got to see an old friend, and to catch up on where our lives have taken us. We saw new friends, too, and I sat listening to the music and watched while Oliver danced with a girl from his class. I also saw him put his hands behind is back and stand quietly still as another boy pushed and pulled him, in a bit of exuberant rough-housing. I felt a sense of awe as I saw Ollie master his self-control and not react. I love who he is, and who he's becoming. I looked up and saw the afternoon sun streaming through the high windows and felt my mom's hand on my shoulder. I was glad to have her there.
