On the occasion of my son's 10th birthday

I remember the day. Well, it started out at night, about 3 PM. It had just rained a little, enough to make the streets wet. We drove quietly from our home in Aurora to Newmarket, along with my mother-in-law. Quiet. Until we got to the hospital. Someone else we shared the prenatal class with was there and was just having her baby. "It went quick," they said and so we thought it would go quickly for us too. But it didn't.

A morning of pushing didn't get us anywhere and by the afternoon the doctor suggested using the vacuum. And then he was born. Crying a bit but then he contented himself with sucking on his fist. I drove my mother-in-law home, changed and returned to find my wife, bewildered and shell-shocked and sharing a room with some very noisy neighbours. We moved her to another room. It was the most heroic thing I had done all day. What else could I do?

And now my son is 10. Still a kid but I see him changing, moving from little boy to pre-adolescent with a bit of an attitude - not too much of an attitude, but it's there. It's hard to describe the feelings I have. Sometimes I am so aware of my children growing up, growing older and it makes me feel that it is all so fleeting. We have them but for a little while. In another 10 years he could be out of the house. Ten years is not so long.

But it is good - being a father and seeing my children grow. A joy.