Twenty-five years ago my husband and I were blessed with a
son whom we named Tristan. I was inspired by the younger brother on “All
Creatures Great and Small” and my husband by the famous opera. Our son came not upon
his due date, but on the day he chose, which just happened to be the anniversary
of Napoleon crowning himself emperor. Our son waited till the last minute to
arrive as, we found out, is his custom.
When Tristan was born
he didn’t cry. He barely made any sound at all. The doctor gently forced him to
make some noise so she knew he was all right, but he didn’t feel inclined to
aid her. He peered out at us as if a more knowledgeable person waited behind those
all-seeing eyes. As if to say to us, “I don’t think I’m ready yet so you’ll
just have to wait.” And wait we did and still do. Once he chose to participate in this
world, he took it at his own pace and made sure we knew it when he felt rushed.
As a man in his own right now and no longer “our son” only, he speaks fluent English
and French and is a musician who writes his own songs.

Tristan can be found at:
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