I remember it like it was yesterday. Sitting in my doctor’s office, freezing under the glare of the fluorescent lights, telling him how awful I felt. The brain fog. The lack of appetite (which I was secretly happy with because I was finally, miraculously, seven long years after our son Casey was born, back to my pre-baby weight). And worst of all, the constant, overwhelming need to nap. “The exhaustion terrifies me,” I told him. “I’m the Energizer Bunny. I never take a nap! I exercise, eat right, and run a crazy busy business. I have more energy than anyone I know!” I paused, and then, hypochondriac that I am, whispered, “Do you think it’s the big ‘C’?” To which he responded, “No, Mrs. McCorkindale. I think it’s the big ‘P.'”
Happy 17th birthday to the most wonderful surprise I’ve ever gotten. Cuyler, you are kind and gentle and smart. You are screamingly funny, an incredible brother, and an outstanding rugby player. Your dad would be so proud. I know I am. And I can’t wait to see what the next 17 years holds for you. I love you, CB.
