Family Day in Plague Times

Yesterday was our Family Anniversary. 19 years ago yesterday, we brought BabyGoth home from her first parents. I remember that day, all of it: the shock of seeing that nobody showed up to support her first parents at all, the terror of putting on a set of baby clothes on an actual baby for the first time, the car drive home. All of it.

Our family anniversary and BabyGoth’s birthday are both important celebrations in our house. This year was the first time that she actually suggested celebrating. All on her own with no prompting from other people, I hear. DadGoth made a reservation at a nice restaurant with a big outdoor patio, as she’s not going to be able to come home for the next month.

BabyGoth had an adventure getting to the place, involving 2 trips to the dollar store for a phone cable, an exciting part of the ride where her phone outright failed with the first charger, and her going to the wrong end of the parking lot. But we found each other.

Lunch was good. It’s a surreal feeling having a grown-up conversation with your baby, including the joy that she is trying some hobbies that you loved for almost all your life. I wished that we could have stayed there for the rest of the day.

But she had plans, and it was time for the three of us to go.

It felt a little like the end, like the last time we’d be able to celebrate our family anniversary all together. Last year we celebrated at home – takeout from an Italian restaurant, and board games. In the past year, BabyGoth graduated high school and started her first year at college, and began the final stages of moving away from us to start her own life.

We didn’t become an official family in our state’s eyes until 6 months later. That wasn’t nearly as big a deal as our placement day, and we don’t make as big of a deal about it. This was a big, life-changing day. There’s a lot more about that day, but that’s something I won’t be sharing. Happy family day.