Fatherhood

A few days ago I held a tiny newborn in my arms, all five pounds of her.
No, she was not my child, though she reminded me.
And she was not even my grandchild, though I thought she looked precious enough to qualify.
But she was my great-granddaughter!
And yes, Talia reminded me.

Reminded me of many years ago, when our own came in what seemed a somewhat hurried succession, a bit faster than I thought reasonable at the time, though I did not reflect long on our own implication.
But admittedly, it sometimes made it hard to be always equally fascinated by each of them, especially when one needed burping, the other tried to pull the third one’s few silky strands of hair, and the fourth was trying, without permission, to get a dangerously unsteady bead on the whole scene through Dad’s new camera.

Ah, but they grew up, too soon of course, though more or less in order.  Still, the growing up hardly diminished the fascination, fondness, and love.
Oh, there was the usual dosage of frustration, fretting, and fear even.
It’s after all no small matter to see a frolicsome family of four through many changes: changes of diapers, of height and weight, of schools, of preferences, of moods, of voice, of friends and enemies.
Not that our family was particularly fickle, I think. As a matter of fact, it was a fun bunch of young’uns.
But as the Frisians say, “time stands not still,” and one gets a little winded sometimes trying to keep a firm grip on Time’s coattails.

I was beginning to relax a bit, though.  Almost finished with an exciting, sometimes exhausting, and often challenging task, I’d venture to think to myself.
And so far so good, thank God.  Nobody ran away in those fifteen years, nobody refused to go to school or church, nobody even had a cavity in all those years (though the first one appeared soon thereafter)!
They had been good years, and the years ahead promised to be good too – a little quieter and a little more independent.

Well, I didn’t know then that parenthood doesn’t end when children eventually go it alone.
But least of all did I know that our parenthood was about to begin anew: an unexpected expecting!
We were flabbergasted, and that’s not saying all of it.
Our thinking had been a grandchild, some future day maybe.
But to start all over again with another of our own??
Bibs again, and a crib and a playpen and a highchair and little booties and baby blankies, and then toys and teething rings and snowsuits, and a trike and – oh my goodness, all this all over again?
And what about the population explosion!  I always had a fear of explosions, and now I was causing one of my own?  I could feel the accusing eyes of zero-populationists smite my conscience.
I cringed a little.  And I tightened my coattails grip again: I’d be raising a child toward the dawn of the 21^st century.

The truth is that it did sort of take my breath away; it did for the whole family, in fact, and Mama not least among them.  But not just because of the sheer shock of the surprise.
Also and especially because of being in the presence of an unfolding miracle.

When I held little Talia, I was reminded again of what a miracle it is!
The growth of a single cell to an almost fully formed embryo in little more than two months’ time!
The fluttering development of a soft bulging piece of tissue into a tiny but complete human being.
What a wonder of God’s creation it really is!
And we celebrated that miracle together, for this time the kids were old enough to appreciate the wonder of it all.  We researched medical books, felt the baby’s lively movements, made cutesy baby things, gathered the necessary baby stuff from everywhere, proposed names, anticipated the actual arrival, prayed for a safe delivery and a healthy child – all this and more became a big part of the family’s excitement during the last several months.

Yes, I was reminded.
And I prayed that the parents of little Talia will be blessed as they rise to the challenge of raising a new human being, as they experience the joy of watching her grow, of eliciting the magic of the first smile, hearing the first word, the first phrase, the first original sentence, the first prayer.

What a privilege it was to have and to love another child.
What a blessing to still have all our children; and grandchildren.
What a privilege now to have a great grandchild!

Thank you, God.