In the wee hours of June 28, our 31st wedding anniversary, the home phone rang. With the birth of our grandson approaching, I answered it on the second ring, broken ankle and all. My daughter said, “Happy Anniversary, Mom…I think we are going to have a big present for you.” In a pure excitement fog, we packed up, and headed out of town as fast as we could; monitoring her labor all the way. Of course, of course, of course there was a tire issue about two hours into the five hour drive. We told the man at the tire place that we had a grand baby on the way. His had been born the day before. “My baby had a baby yesterday, I know how you feel. We are going to get you all on the road.” He hurried his workers for us and we were back on the road in 30 minutes.
We arrived at the hospital at just the right time, about 5 hours ahead of little Keller’s birth. We had pre-arranged that my daughter would have both her husband and myself with her during labor. We made a fabulous team. I forgot how hard the pushing was and found myself in a full body sweat, pushing with her all the way. I have no words for how it felt to see my daughter’s strength and stamina; her husband’s love and encouragement; the wonderful work of a physician and team of nurses; the birth; the laughing and tears all mingled together; a slightly scary part where the baby had to go to the nursery for 30 minutes to be monitored at first; and his return to them, all pink and healthy.
They live in a place where every sunrise and sunset is more gorgeous than the next. I broke my ankle trying to capture a sunset with my camera. And now, in between my sunrise and sunset pictures; this baby, picture after picture. I wanted to capture his littleness, his softness, his faces, his stretches. I wished I could take a picture of his sweet smell. At the same time, I wanted to capture those sunrises, the pinks, the corals, the yellows. I wanted to drink it all in because what I know now, that I didn’t use to know, is that that these moments are fleeting and so unspeakably beautiful.
Two days after his birth, I found my daughter in tears. She said, “He’s growing too fast.” I had no words of wisdom. None. I was looking at a grown young woman, a mom, who I just gave birth to myself. Our tears mingled as I said, “I know.”
I know we are to savor. I know we are to be grateful and in the moment. I know real moments are better than I-phone ones. But, wouldn’t it be so sweet if we could just pause on the beautiful holy moments just a little bit longer than all the others? God is so good.