satchel paige and max

Today my baby turns 18. Well, he’s not a baby, of course - he’s taller than me and usually has a few days worth of stubble on his chin. He wins by a mile whenever we have a tickling match or a game of ping pong. He’s even in the process of applying to college. But in my mind, Max will always be my little one, the baby who needs tending, the one who needs extra doses of nurturing.

I remember Max at 18 months. He used to pad about the house in his little blue Mickey Mouse shoes, going from room to room with toilet paper dragging in one hand. You see, he would go into the bathroom, start to unroll the toilet paper, then walk around into different rooms doing whatever it was he was doing in each room, and leave a trail of toilet paper for me to follow. I guess he wanted his independence, but he also wanted to make sure I knew where he was at any given moment.

Which brings me around to Satchel Paige. “How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?” Paige apparently posed this question at some point in his illustrious career, because the quote ended up on a birthday card that someone sent me years ago. I have had it hanging in my office ever since. I like the notion that you can basically create your own reality about things in life, even when it comes to your age.

If I wasn’t paying attention to the calendar, I could imagine that Max was still 18 months old. One night recently, he managed to convince us to let him stay out later than his curfew, and I was pleasantly surprised when he called a couple of times to make sure we knew where he was. No toilet paper, but it sure seemed like he was casting a similar kind of safety net.

If I wasn’t paying attention to the calendar, I could imagine that I am still that 36 year old who ran around the house, following his little paper trail, pretending to be startled when I discovered him in the next room, scooping him up in my arms, turning him upside down and tickling him wildly, the two of us dissolving into uncontrollable laughter.

It’s not that hard for me to be whatever age it is that I feel like being. Even when the unexplainable aches and pains of A.G.E. scream for attention, and even as Max continues to spread his wings as a young adult, I feel lucky to have wonderful and lively memories that can - and do - easily transport me (us) back in time.

Happy birthday, Max.