Sound; Red Hot Chili Peppers...screaming, my brother crying.

Sight; You mother laying out on the chair with the umbilical cord still coming from between her legs, blood.

Taste; McDonalds served by surly cashiers.

Touch; I've never felt anything softer than a newborn's skin. I know it's cliche, but it's true.

Smell; The awful smell of the hospital.

January 20, 2000
To Connor.

The day you were born, I cried more than I did even on the day I married your brother-in-law. It was the windiest day of the year, and bitter cold. The high was 34, but the sun was strong and there weren't too many clouds. I was working the day that our father called me to tell me that your mom was pregnant, and I was working when he called and said that her water broke.

At 8:00 that morning, I let out a whoop that filled the almost empty office. After I hung up, I thought to myself that it would many many hours before anything would be happening, so I could try and stay at the office to calm myself down and be at the hospital a few hours later. If I had done that, I would've missed you. I slung my jacket over one shoulder and ran to my boss, who waved me out and winked with a grin.

When I got into the car, there was a Red Hot Chili Peppers song playing on the radio called Otherside. This will now be your song in my mind. I sang outloud as I headed onto the highway. My car was already on empty, but I didn't remember how to pump gas at that moment, I was lucky to remember which pedal was the brake and which was the gas. Funny, when you're old enough to drive I'm sure they'll have standardized electric cars as the norm. Right now, they're just beginning to advertise one model on television.

Once I got to the house, your mother wasn't contracting, she was hanging low and attempting to pack the rest of her things. Our father was at the kitchen table, reading the section out of "What to Expect When You're Expecting," keeping himself up to date on what should be happening at this particular moment. Now Connor, our father is the epitome of calm, cool and collected. Only those who know him would have been able to see the crack in his veneer at that moment. But it was only a crack, and he still was under the impression that he was perfectly in control. It was endearing to watch, and I laughed at him often. Then your mom started feeling real contractions soon after I arrived.

Dad called the midwife, who lit a fire under our asses to get to the hospital, making Dad go a little loopy. Your mother just wanted to blow-dry her hair, Dad gave in and stood in the doorway while she did. I went and warmed up the car.

15 minutes later, we were riding down the highway and Dad was taunting police cars. Thinking about it, I'd do the same thing, wouldn't you? How often do you get to tell the cop that your wife is in labor, and not only get off scot-free but also get an escort? I continued to laugh at him, but your mother was starting to pant, and I was starting to get uncomfortable watching her. It very difficult to watch someone you care about in pain, you'll see that later.

I dropped your mother and father off at the hospital entrance and parked in the deck, they went up to get checked before she was given over to the Women's Center, to the delivery room. I went upst airs and was promptly sent back downstairs to lug the bags over to the WC. Then we stood around while they finished preparing the room, then your mother didn't want the first room, because it didn't have a tub. They weren't about to argue with someone in active labor, we got the tub room soon after.

There was only a good hour of being in the room before her pain began to overpower your mother. Then your "aunt" Jenny showed up, so I gave over my post to her and went to the 24 hour McDonald's for our dad. He loves a good chicken sandwich, it's a running joke we have...I'd say we've had that one going for about 15 years. If for some reason I'm not here to keep it going, I pass it on to you. Once I got back, everyone was in the bathroom, with your mom in the tub. Kid, I'm not sure what you were doing in there, but she had been 2 centimeters dilated for 3 days, and then all of the sudden in the tub, she was ready to go within 15 minutes. At that point, I wasn't needed within the immediate area, I love your mom and all, but damn.

I was outside of the door during the most intensive parts of delivery, going in and out at our dad's behest for this and that, holding the camera, other assorted tasks. Your nurses and midwives were great, and we all had gotten to know o ne another, then came the evil nurse from hell, who threw me out because she didn't like people in the hall. Later, when you're older, you'll hear about the exchange we had over that...our dad was furious too. But only 3 minutes after evil nurse told me to leave, you were born.

Our dad ran out into the waiting area and yelled for me to "C'mon!" And I did.

You were laid out bareassed nekkid across your mother's belly, you weren't crying anymore, you were the most damned serene newborn I've ever seen. I'd already cried steadily since your mother had begun yelling in the primal voice of laboring women, but now my face screwed up and I wasn't able to speak. I just sobbed and sobbed and stared at you, stroked you when they put you under the heat lamp while they looked after your mom, before they began to attend to you.

You weren't cross-eyed, you locked eyes with me almost immediately. You know things, but you don't have the voice to tell us. You're brilliant, though now you have to learn everything all over from scratch. You are so ethereally soft, and alert.

The day after you were born, while your grandmother was changing you for the first time, you cried so hard you gave yourself a little miniature erection. I don't think I'd laughed that hard in a year. I'll try hard to keep myself from telling that story too often, but son, I'm going to be giving you hell for the rest of our lives together. Your dad's a bastard that way too so watch out for it.

So that's what happened when on the day you were born. Here's what you need to know in case I'm not here to tell you.

The house you came home to when you were three days old is the house I grew up in too. You probably won't, because they want to move to the country in a few years. The grooves in the hallway that you see in the wood? I put those there with my pink and purple skates when I was six. Don't ever slide across the wood in the hall either, I once got a four-inch splinter in my ass that way. In the front of the living room door is a gas connector from before w e had central heating in the house, be careful, it's broken more than one toe. You see the park right behind the house? That's where I learned to ride a bike, if you decide to learn there too, go for the middle part of the hill, otherwise you'll get too much or too little speed.

Your mom wasn't always married to our dad, a few years before you were born he was married to my mom, who wasn't a bad broad. They just weren't the right people for each other. They made each other unhappy, which is no way to live your life. He wasn't the man you know now, but that doesn't matter. It was your mother that played a role in making him a happy person, and you played a large role as well. I'll never call you my half brother, because we both have more than enough of my fa ther's blood inside of us to make us whole.

Our father is the best man I've ever known. Be good to him, he is hard as a rock, but so much of him depends on his children, we are everything to him, bear this in mind while living with him.

We have another brother, but you probably won't know him very well, or see him very often, even I don't. I'm sure that deep down he loves you as much as I do. I believe he's just a very special type of person, and he means well, he just doesn't know how to show people. In c a se you never know, he is four years older than I am, and spent time in the navy, he is a person that doesn't connect with other people. Maybe you'll be the person to turn that around, who knows? I'm not holding you to anything. Just know that he loves you as well. I called him when you were born, and he just said..."Cool."

I want to know you, and I want you to know me. I want you to love me, because I already love you more than I thought I would. I want you to know your father, I've been scared because the year you were born, he was already 50. What if I'm the only link to him that you have? Your mother knows him, but what is 5 years as compared to 22? I have so much to teach you.

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