My eldest daughter was supposed to take me out to breakfast on Father’s Day.
She didn’t. She became a little busy.
Instead she presented us all with a brand new baby boy. That makes grandchild no. 3.
She and her family live not quite three hours to the south of us. The baby was supposed to be born at a hospital near home but when a child arrives three weeks early, plans are thwarted.
My daughter was visiting her parents when she realized it was time. And why does it so often become time at four in the morning? I was still saying, what? huh? now? when wife and daughter left for the hospital. I followed soon after, though.
Actually, she had been informed the baby would be early – she just didn’t think that early.
There’s something about pregnant women that seems to put them on the move shortly before birth.
Maybe it all started with Mary, mother of Jesus of Nazareth. Did she not take an arduous journey to Bethlehem and on the back of a donkey which resulted in her giving birth? And she had no hospital, not even any room at the inn.
My own mother recalled that she had taken car trips before the birth of at least two of her children and a long walk before the birth of another.
The new grandson was born the afternoon of Father’s Day and at last report mother and baby were doing fine. My wife has been pulling long hours of duty helping daughter both at her home and now at the hospital. The new procedure is that the baby stays in the room with the mother – no nursery. Meanwhile, I’m doing what I usually do, blog.
But I did see the new human two times today. Cute as a button as they say.
And if you are not moved by the miracle of birth and the thought of the need to work for a better world in your own way at such a sight, then something is missing.