Last Friday we took the boys back to where our family began. One snowy night, my sophomore year at Radford University, when I was just getting over being sick, I decided to go to the party anyway. That’s where I met the girl that would eventually become my wife. We showed them the apartment we stood in front of that night for our first kiss.
A phone number, scribbled in orange colored pencil, on a piece of paper led to a meeting in the cafeteria. We ate lunch with the boys in the food court outside the cafeteria, as we pointed this out.
This is where your mom danced ballet, and I earned my ballet credits lifting the girls over my head, because they did not have enough male dancers. Easiest credits I ever earned. No, your dad never wore tights. The boys watched the dancers warming up for class.
This is the building your dad worked in while he went to school. This is where your mom worked. This is the fountain we walked by every day to class. There was our dorm, her apartment, my apartment.
We took many a walk in this park, and probably talked about you, well before you were born. The boys played on the playground at Bissett Park, staring out at the same section of the James River from 16 years ago.
All of this is part of the story that led up to you. Our story, where it first began.