Another child to hold
This afternoon I got to meet number nine — my ninth grandchild — in person. We’ve got a baseball team now. It’s always a special moment to hold a newborn, but even more so when it’s family.
We need these moments to say, “Hello!” in a world where we too often speak a graveside “Goodbye” to those we’ve loved for so long. A birth interrupts the news of another shooting, disease, storm, or war to remind us it’s not over yet. Life happens, too.
Fast asleep in her swaddle, I didn’t get to hear her voice, look into her eyes, tickle her toes, or let her tiny fingers wrap around mine. I’m looking forward to those moments.
This small person, completely dependent upon the care of her parents, will get whatever she wants, day or night, at least in the beginning. She will exert control over her family’s schedule, priorities, and activities. She is the main event, the headliner, Miss Popularity, and the keynote speaker all rolled into one. At least for now.
And we love it. We love these moments. And we love her. We hardly know her but she has captured our hearts. We wonder, “Where have you been?” She reminds us of how precious life is. Not just hers, but ours. And “those” people, too. (You know who I’m talking about.)
Her dad said she started yelling right away, announcing, “I’m here!” We’re glad you are. Welcome, little one.
