Dear Luca,

I met you for the first time yesterday. 

I stopped at your mom’s favorite cupcake place to get some goodies on the way, because it was her birthday. (Nice job, BTW, not coming on her birthday. It’s the little things you do for your mom.) Anyway, the place was closed on Mondays so I just got a bunch of magazines. Mama loves magazines. And the phone. But not more than she loves you.

You were so tiny, perfectly bundled in a really good burrito wrap. (your parents are pros now) Speaking of them, they looked good and really calm. Your mom looked so cute in her own pjs, robe and slippers. Not that you care about that, but I know your mom, and she would want it noted that she looked good. Your dad looked great too. He was his usual funny self and regaled me with a hilarious story about meeting a new father in the hallway at 6am.

Anyway, back to you.

I held you for an hour or so. I didn’t want to give you back. You were so perfect and warm and quiet. Did I mention quiet? Yes, you were silent. And so handsome. You look like your daddy. I was calling you “mini-V”.

I was taken aback at how emotional I was. I was really jittery on the way to see you. I joked to your mom and dad “It’s not like I was going to get here and be surprised that you gave birth to a cat or something. I mean I knew what was happening!”

But then I saw you.

And let me say, you do not disappoint.

Only after I left the hospital, did it hit me. A baby being born brings so much hope and love into our lives. And that’s what you brought us, hope and love. Sounds pretty hippy dippy as your Papa would say, but you’ll learn quick enough that that’s kind of how I roll.

I love your mom, my sister, so fiercely that it was almost like I had a baby too. And everything she was feeling, I was somehow feeling too.

I am so proud of her, Luca. She really is fantastic. So funny and smart. You’re lucky to have her as your mother.

I felt my Dad, your Papa, so much as I walked back to my car on that pretty day. I had a little conversation with him in my head. I knew he was so happy for Meggie, that’s what he called her.  And I really did feel him all around.

I took the long way home to enjoy all of the downtown-ness that I could. I stopped at Katherine’s for a lovely solo lunch to toast you. I had the veggie sandwich on a croissant (delish but if you get it tell them to omit the zucchini, the texture is wrong) and a bottle of San Pellegrino water to toast you, my new nephew. I laughed as I sipped, knowing that a lot of people will ask you in your life if you are one of “those Pellegrinos”. (the water Pellegrinos) You smile a certain smile, ask your mom to show you the smile. She’s the master of it. The smile that says you’re a jackass but I’m trying to be nice to you. Anyway, you smile and tell them that the water is SAN Pellegrino, which is a place, not a bunch of people.

You, my darling little man, are part of the Denver Pellegrinos, a much more important group.

I love you,

Aunt Emily

PS- I have lots of good pictures of you, but I want to wait until your mom and dad post some. Can’t steal their thunder, you know?


Anonymous | May 5, 2009 at 1:07 PM


my best to all of you :)

~Chad (in ATL)