(15/15) “There’s something I do every morning. When I’m leaving...

(15/15) “There’s something I do every morning. When I’m leaving for work. I’ll go in his room and give him a kiss on the forehead. Now if I was to try this during the day, he’d never allow it. He’d push me away. But if I catch him right when he wakes up, he’s disoriented. I think he forgets who he is for a second. And he’ll hug me like he doesn’t want me to leave. Next year he’s going to college. I don’t like it. It went too fast. It flew. We celebrated my 50th birthday last year. That was a big one for me; it was a birthday my father never saw. We took a trip to Philadelphia: all three of us. Tabatha booked us a nice hotel with an infinity pool. It was just a short trip, and the next morning we drove home. I’m coming out the elevator, with all of our luggage, when I hear a ruckus in the hallway. I’m thinking it’s kids. I’m thinking the neighbor’s kids are playing in the hall again. But then I turn around, and it’s all of them: Nona, Steve, Anthony, all the nieces and nephews. They’re filming me and giggling like crazy. I go in the apartment and there’s decorations everywhere. A beautiful cake. My mother cooked my favorite braciole. In the living room there’s a bunch of gifts. I sit down on the couch to open them, and Tabatha slides a Bluetooth speaker next to me. It’s playing Billy Joel songs: Rootbeer Rag, Nocturne. Some of my favorites. But different versions, with different chords. When the final present is opened, I give a little speech. I thank everyone for coming. Then it was time for the braciole. I started heading for the kitchen, when Jack says: ‘Wait. There’s more.’ My niece disappears into the bedroom, and comes back with our electronic keyboard. She sets it down in the middle of the room. And Jack takes a seat. And he begins to play. The left hand running down the keys. The right hand running up the keys, playing the happy notes. I sit back on the couch and I start to lose it. Nobody else knows what’s happening. They’re confused. It’s just a song to them. They’re looking at me like I have seventeen heads. They couldn’t know. He actually did it. My boy. To make me happy. To make me say wow. My boy. My beautiful boy. My beautiful, beautiful, baby boy.”