Last Saturday morning around this time while driving to my usual Saturday racquetball game, I started thinking about where we were 22 years before to the day. Deirdre, Carrick and I were in Bogota, where we'd met Duncan for the first time a few days before at CRAN (Foundation Center for Reintegration and Child Care), and now we were now all celebrating his first birthday in an apartment owned by our lovely and extraordinary Colombian facilitator, Clara Toro, where we were staying. As I drove up Saw Mill River Road, I felt tears streaming down my face as I considered our good fortune with our two children, and now our grandchild.
It was Duncan's 23rd birthday yesterday but by the time I returned from racquetball he was in the city for the parade. We'll catch up for dinner at Harvest on Hudson Monday evening. Meanwhile, we're enjoying the lake.