My mother used to tell me the story of the day that I was born. She said it was a cold and dreary day in February. She remembers one of the nurses told her that her baby would share the birthday of George Washington. The next thing she knew she was lying in bed and I was being handed to her. The first thing she noticed was how large I was (almost 10 lbs) and how big my hands were, and how loud and powerful I cried. She told me, “the minute I saw you I loved you.” And looking at me, she wondered who I was and who I would become.
The day my daughter was born was a clear, beautiful fall day in October. We actually went to the hospital two days prior to her birth. My wife, Melanie, was in labor for 29 hours. Our daughter, Erin, finally arrived around 6:00 am on that beautiful day. The nurses placed her into my arms and the minute I held her a tremendous, overwhelming love came pouring fourth from the deepest part of me. And as I gazed into her eyes, I wondered who she was and who she would become.
Now, my daughter is pregnant and will soon have a daughter of her own. She sent us a text the other day that contained an audio of our soon-to-be granddaughter’s heartbeat. And the love from the deepest part of me came pouring out. Whoever she is, whoever she becomes, she will be loved.
