4/18 in the 206
Our lives are made up of singular moments.
Singular moments or little passages of time that either become immediately significant or may take some time to become an indelible memory help define us as people and what we choose to hold dear to our hearts.
In the final hour of Friday, April 18, 2025 – as my 42nd Birthday was coming to a close within the very safe confines of my cousin Tami’s house in Washington state – a private moment between us approached.
Steps away from both their kitchen and from the house’s front door and with a singular light emanating from the kitchen, she approached me with her arms extended.
A tight embrace ensued as she proceeded to wish me a Happy Birthday one final time, expressed her sincere hope that I had a good day.
Deep gratitude and appreciation for both her and her husband, Scott, came through as I just wanted one last opportunity to say “thank you” before the clock struck midnight.
I didn’t want to let go.
I just wanted to live in and soak in that moment for as long as humanely possible.
If only time could have stood still.
**
Birthdays are meant to be celebrated and shouldn’t to be considered just another day.
When you come into this world at just two pounds, about 12 ½ weeks early with a lifelong and permeant disability, your perspective becomes crystal clear about that.
Being a twin is something I didn’t ask for.
It’s not my fault. Nor is it the fault of my brother, which I fully understand.
I had to share countless things with him while growing up.
The fact we share a birthday – I’m two minutes older, for the record – is something I’ve wrestled in trying to accept because of what the day means to me and my desire to be able to celebrate individually.
And I’ve tried my best to be able to do that because we all should afforded the opportunity and chance to reflect and celebrate in whatever way we choose.
So when 10:28 AM PST (12:28 PM CST) hit on April 18, 2025, it hit a little differently because I was where I wanted to be at 42.
**
Traditions drive a lot of what we do.
I have certain things that I try to do when the calendar approaches and hits 4/18.
A lot of them surround food – whether it be Portillo’s Italian beef, Potbelly, Giordano’s deep dish and Maggiano’s Taylor Street Baked Ziti.
In preparation for my time in the Pacific Northwest, three of those spots got hit – with one notable exception.
Heartbroken to find out Maggiano’s had taken the TSBZ off its menu on March 18, 2025, my traditional birthday dinner is no more.
My father’s side of the family have coined it as “Blaked Ziti” because they know how much I love it.
It’s my favorite dish at any restaurant and it’s my sincere hope its absence from the menu is short-lived.
Another tradition when I’m so fortunate to be in the safe company of Tami, Scott and their two boys, Chase and Colby, is taking a ferry from Poulsbo into Seattle.
It didn’t take long for them to realize how taken I was with that experience when I did it for the first time in Sept. 2022 – and I’m eternally grateful for that.
It’s by far one of the best things you can do while in Seattle and I can’t recommend it enough, with yours truly’s healthy obsession of Space Needle snapshots serving as a perfect backdrop.
I’ve told numerous people that I don’t care what I do while I’m with my cousin and her family.
I need time with her and I need time with them.
Whether it’s as simple as going to a store, dropping off perishables, going to a baseball game, going out to eat or just chilling and relaxing at tWeed – all of it is quality time and all of it is extremely important.
It’s something I never will remotely take lightly and will always prioritize.
That’s the God’s honest truth.
So it didn’t matter to me in the slightest where we went to dinner on that Friday night because all that mattered was I with her on my birthday.
To be surprised with a ferry ride into the city for dinner on a postcard weather day and for the two of them to try their best to adhere to my tradition, it meant the world.
The Cannelloni Fiorentina at Il Terrazzo Carmine in Seattle’s Pioneer Square hit the spot, as did the bottle of wine the three of us shared.
There are times when I feel like people don’t see me for who I really am.
But that has never been the case with her – from our family gatherings growing up either in Illinois or Florida or over the course of these last four years when we’ve gotten undeniably closer.
That’s why that hug we gave one another as we both said good night in the final hour of April 18, 2025, is something I’ll never forget.
Just time could have stopped to allow both of us to savor that moment in time just a little bit longer.
**
Three hundred and sixty-five days prior to that dinner at Il Terrazzo Carmine, my iPhone pinged with a FaceTime call at 6:11 PM CST on April 18, 2024.
I was about to partake in some Maggiano’s baked ziti and would begin watching “Finding Forrester” – one of my favorite movies and a film that speaks to me very much as a writer (you don’t think on first drafts. Write first and then bust out the red pen).
She was on the other end sitting in her car waiting to pick up one of the boys from practice.
That 33-minute phone call made my night because I had no idea she was going to do that.
She had texted earlier that afternoon while I was out walking to my annual birthday lunch at Potbelly.
To be able to see her on my birthday was a little gift.
To be able to be with her on my birthday a year later was a gift of an entirely different color.
And I’ll never forget.
**
In the nearly 20 years since my graduation from Michigan State University with my B.A. in journalism – May 6, 2005 – I cut my teeth covering high school sports as a freelancer for most of that time.
While a two-year stint as a part-time college football writer focusing on recruiting at ESPN sits atop the resume and is something I’m still figuring out how to leverage into a path forward, I acknowledge I’m a high school guy for the most part.
I hate admitting that because I know I’m more than that, I want to be more than that and I don’t want to be typecast as such.
I’m fighting the good fight and fighting a lot of things in trying to change that and it’s one of many constant battles I fight every day.
Now having said that, my most enjoyable experience as a writer was the extensive coverage of my alma mater, Naperville Central, on its way to the 2010 Class 4A state title.
To be there to see a program that still means much to me after two years as a varsity manager (2000 and 2001) reach the mountaintop for the second time in five years (2006 and 2010) has left a lasting impression.
Baseball very well might be the biggest passion in my life. It’s likely not even a question.
Chase (17) and Colby (15 on Aug. 14, 2025) both play.
There’s no denying that’s one reason why I feel bonded to them, in a similar fashion to their mother, a former high school and junior college softball player.
I’ve had the pleasure of watching both play for their respective travel teams.
But given my background, I made it a point to express to her, Scott and Chase that I wanted to see Chase play for his high school team, North Kitsap, at least once before he graduates in 2026.
That day came on my first full day at 42 at Cheney Stadium – home of the Tacoma Rainiers, the Mariners’ Triple AAA affiliate – as Chase went 0-for-2 with a walk during a 13-8 victory over North Mason while starting at second base.
Who knows what the spring of 2026 will hold. But I’m glad I was able to check it off the to-do list at least once for Chase.
And, selfishly, I hope to do the same for Colby - who will enter high school this fall - should he decide to eventually don the purple of the Vikings.
**
Therapy takes all different sizes, shapes and forms.
I don’t keep a daily journal or diary or anything like that.
For someone that has made the written word a little bit of a living but certainly a core part of his identity, that may seem strange.
But I’ll readily admit that reflecting on significant and meaningful experiences and trying to get words out and express deep thought is a form of therapy.
I just pick my spots with it.
Time with my cousin is therapeutic for me because of how she makes me feel, how much fun we have together and the gift that is for me – time with her.
She’s someone I know I can rely on, someone I trust explicitly, someone I would do anything for.
I’d like to believe those feelings are reciprocal.
She’s good for me.
And for a brief moment in time, her presence allows me to block out all of the other things I’m dealing with because I can just try to focus on being where my feet are - a happy place.
I’ve come to peace with the fact that the trek back to Seattle-Tacoma International Airport and the eventual parting of ways will always be emotional for me.
It should be when you care about someone and a place that much.
It’s a great problem to have.
It’s one I hope to be able to face head on for several years to come.
