parallel...

Yesterday was a truly ironic sequence of parallels. The poignant, undeniable reality of how precious life is couldn't have been any more clear. My brother and sister in law welcomed their first baby into the world, which in and of itself is a miracle - childbirth always is. It's amazing to see a new being - a new life - come into the world and take its first breaths. By the time I got to hold him, he was just a little over an hour old. His eyes were still scrunched into that newborn squint and he had that addictive newborn smell to his soft skin.

As my mother and I were driving to the hospital, I was suddenly aware that this new life was delivered at the same hospital where my father was pronounced dead. Although it may seem morbid to some that I would draw this connection, it holds so much significance for me... New life is arriving where old life has passed. Walking from the parking lot to the hospital entrance, I lightheartedly joked with my mother that for once she was walking faster than I was. I could tell that she was doing her best to contain herself from breaking into a full sprint through those sliding glass doors and up to the maternity ward to hold her new and first grandbaby in her arms. I smiled inwardly, saving the tears for later, so happy to see my mother so happy, to hear her excitement thrill in her voice.

When we finally got to Amy's room, we quietly knocked on the door and waited for Phil to pull aside the curtain. I was almost overwhelmed by how different he seemed. He was standing just a little taller, his chest was proudly puffed out and yet his voice was so quiet. He was a father. He now knows exactly what it was like for my father to watch as each of us were delivered into the world. He now knows what it's like to immediately fall in love with something with such a deep, desperate affection that it almost hurts.

We walked in and saw Amy serenely holding her baby to her chest as he quietly sucked on her index finger, his puffy eyes just barely open. And then we talked about his name. Henry Jacob. I still tear up hearing it and probably will for a while. My father's namesake. It's so bittersweet because I know how proud he would be, but I so desperately wish he could be here to see this miracle....but I know he's watching from heaven. Amidst all the congratulatory texts and phonecalls I received as a new auntie, one particularly stands out. My aunt said to me in a text that she was so happy for my mother - that she "had a new Henry to love"....and it's so true. We all do.

Mom held Henry for a while, and it was so precious to see her coo and smile at this beautiful new baby boy who so quickly and unknowingly stole all of our hearts. Finally she passed him to me and I was able to revel in the joy of holding my nephew. It was like time flashed before my eyes and I could see him running around the house, wreaking havoc on all things breakable, pushing toy cars along the floor making 'vroom vroom' noises. Thinking on it now, I can't help but draw such a vivid contrast from this baby's soft, warm, unblemished skin compared to the last time I held my father's hand - cold, calloused, lifeless. Although there is still that sadness, it is slowly overshadowed by the joy we have all found in this new life.

Finally, we hesitantly moved toward the door, knowing mother, father and baby needed time to rest and enjoy just being their own family. As we drove back to the house, I realized that it was Tuesday.... Dad had passed away on October 5, 2010.... Tuesday. For me, all these parallels just prove that although he's gone, our father is living on through us and through the values we instill on our growing families. Henry Jacob is living proof of this.