There’s a park that I pass every morning on my way to work – it’s just before I get on the freeway. I’ve passed this park hundreds (probably thousands) of times now, but especially on weekends now I find myself smiling as I pass.

There’s three covered picnic tables with barbecues that are in use just about every weekend for what I presume are birthday parties. Seeing the gazebo covers decorated with streamers and balloons and the table piled high with food and gifts makes me look forward to the future. I remember birthdays in the park when I was very small. It never occurred to me that we might one day have birthday parties there at the park as well.

I can imagine a party with a cake with a dinosaur on it (yes, my kid is gonna love dinosaurs – Mama has spoken) and hot dogs on the barbecue, with my little guy running around in shorts, glossy curls bouncing as he chases a friend with a fluorescent-colored squirt gun. I can hear his laughter drifting to me on the warm summer breeze.

I never, ever thought about stuff like this before. Well, not in many years. It was just torture to think about what would never be ours. But now I smile every time I pass the park and wonder what color the dinosaur should be.