Weston was the first nephew on both sides, and the day he was born, his Coates and Troyer aunts and uncles spent the day painting a room and anxiously waiting for the phone to ring. Boy, was there ever celebrating in that room when I answered the phone and relayed the news. A few weeks later when his uncle Isaac beat us all to Heaven, his delightful baby cuddliness was exactly what we all needed as we tried to process the tragedy.

He just turned nine a few days ago (!!) and has grown into a lean and active kid, equal parts enthusiastic about a hard game of soccer, or about burying his nose in a book for hours. He can way outrun me, but I think I can still outread him, for now. He also helped me recently when I was organizing my closet by asking me to evaluate which of my clothes brought me joy, according to the popular author Marie Kondo. I love having a nephew that is old enough to discuss life and exchange literature with.