I wrote about the little boy named Graham Patrick Gaffney several years ago, after he was nearly one. He'd been born early, and spent his first ten weeks in a NICU. At some point his mom, who is a gifted writer, will fully express the dread of a birth so dicey a nurse told her "Just because he's not crying doesn't mean he's dead."
He's five. He's in school. He thinks he wants to be a chef. For Christmas he'll get a bike jersey because that's what a bike cop buys one of his grandsons on his birthday.
Happy birthday, Graham.