Eight years ago today, my sweet, brilliant, awesome little Goddaughter was born.
Eight years ago tomorrow, I got to meet her.
Eight years ago tomrrow, she was a tiny peanut of a thing, or at least that's the way she looked sitting on her six-foot-five Chicago cop father's shoulder.
(Eight years ago last week, she looked to be about the size of a linebacker inside her tiny-torsoed, five-foot-something, way-too-adorable mom's belly.)
Eight years ago tomorrow, I learned the value of my Doctor Walk, when I waltzed into Maternity Care unannounced and without a visitor's pass, said hello to the nurses, and walked into her mom's room like I belonged there. Which we then finagled into her getting an extra visitor, when I took her abuela's visitor's pass down to her uncle on my way out.
Eight years ago tomorrow, I was studying for my boards, and got the best study break ever.
Eight years ago tomorrow, my heart found a little more room.
Happy birthday, Alej. Your Nouna, te ama.