It started to descend after five and half months.
"It's a boy." the balloon says and was presented to my wife in one of the many baby showers for Baby Tito. Expressing joy that accompanies the birth of a baby, the balloon shines wonder onto his future. A baby becoming a boy becoming a man becoming a father becoming a grandfather. The river of life flows on with new stories.
We are in Seattle to know the next stage of Baby Tito's story. Baby Tito has medical issues and like a Hollywood movie, we want the quick easy answer, but we live in life and not in simple film narratives. What we got from the doctor at Childrens' Hospital is reassurance, hope and more questions. My son has NF1 and we are busy learning about what that means for the rest of his life. We again play the waiting game as we will learn more after the doctor presents my son's case to his colleagues next Wednesday. Isn't a large part of being a parent playing the waiting game?
And Baby Tito? He is happy even after a six hour plus car ride, a miracle in itself. Love never seems to be a simple story no matter how we try to force it into that cake mold. He charms friends and strangers alike. He lives beyond any tale, fable, or story we want to put him in. He is a river into himself.
I am a poet always hunting for the right metaphor like a college coach courting the star athlete. So what to make of slow leaking balloon in my son's room? What surprised my about the balloon is how long it has taken to deflate. It has gone past what I could have expected for a balloon. It has delighted my son for months. Like baby Tito, the balloon has astonished me.