She slipped quietly out of bed and tip-toed through the dark to the bathroom. Taped to the mirror was a note. These weren’t uncommon at her house and she leaned over the counter to read it:
“Good morning! Call Dad’s phone. Heart~ Mama”
It has been three years and she still remembers. She went back to her room and told her sister. “They weren’t expecting us to call at 5:00 am.”
I wonder what I was doing right now–at 2:00 pm–three years ago. I don’t know, but I remember I was very emotional that day. I was probably at the hospital. I’m sure I had seen him by now.
But it seemed like hours before they’d let us see him. He’s my brother anyway!
I remember the first time I held him. Becca and Spencer got to hold him first. Trying. Stressful. I did get to hold him though–that day, that hour. Which was a blessing. We took him home from the hospital. And now I forget that you can get a baby any other way.
But I forget that he came that way. It’s strange. It’s wonderful.
Most wonderful things are strange.
Michael’s officially 3. I can’t believe it’s been three years. But it feels like forever. I remember things that happened before he came along and I catch myself picturing Mom holding a baby. And while we were in China I kept feeling like somebody oughta’ be pushing a stroller.
Force of habit.
I love you, Micheal Joe!