Noah will not stop growing. This is the way it ought to be because, once long ago, his father also did not stop growing. I can remember.
But I did not anticipate two moments, one back then, (we were sitting in a park, we were bright with pride) and one right now (grown up, growing onwards) that would provide such echo.
We all go our own ways, as we should. But sometimes there is something like a counterpoint, playing bravely and briefly alongside us, or in front of us, or from long ago, or from somewhere, somehow…
