The Visit

It is amazing watching a new life take shape. Staring for the longest time at the tiniest of forms seemingly doing little more than existing, hardly aware of its own purpose much less the universe it is  trying to comprehend. The smallest sign of recognition, imagined though it may well be, a cause for celebration.

Birthdays now counted in weeks. Sleep counted in hours. Feedings counted in minutes. Every aspect of this being's being important. Nothing beyond the ever watchful gaze of those entrusted with preserving and protecting. Every moment shouting to be recognized

As we step onto the terrace, she and I enter into a lengthy discussion about the sounds and sights of the city, the colors, the noises, the possibilities and dreams of those who move about below us. It is our first adventure together, alone.

Watching as her parents dress her, trying to fit an arm in here and a leg there like a geometry equation. Seeing her pressed in a snuggly against her father's chest, a protective womb enveloping her.

Each movement of a hand, each wrinkle of a face, each suggestion, each hint, each action a world unto itself.

I try to recall what it felt like for me when this little girl's mommy was my little girl, when she was in her own embryonic stages. But I cannot bring up the intensity that surely consumed those days. There is a small sadness in my failure.

Yet I am grateful for the second chance I now have. To feel the feelings that only a new life can bring. Thank you little girl.