This morning I put on the Peter Pan original Broadway cast album for the first time since I was a child. Mary Martin's 1954 version , for Asher who was eating breakfast with me. He started singing it back to me right away, like he already knew all the words. I had forgotten how big a part of my childhood that album was. Could barely hold back tears listening to him crow.
What I wrote above is what I posted on Facebook. The truth was I was sobbing uncontrollably. How can those songs be so deep inside that when they surface so many years later, and your son is singing them back to you, it is like a well burst inside?