Max came into the world on Wednesday - he joins his big sister Emma, and his cousin Zoe to shift the balance in the grandchild base to the masculine side. I got to see Max at slightly less than 24 hours old - and he looked remarkably like his Daddy did 32 1/2 years ago.
Daughter in Law (Mommy) kept asking me: "Isn't he cute? Isn't he precious?" Big Sister cried happy tears to meet him, and sad tears that he wasn't coming home until the next day. Younger Son (or Uncle) was already making plans to come from Louisville to help walk the floors at night. Papaw was preparing to make a wooden zoo that looks just like two other sets he's already made for two little girls. Daughter called from Arkansas - where were the pictures? Cousin Zoe wanted to see pictures! Grandparents and aunts and uncles and friends were excited for the family.
Older Son (or Daddy) was not clear to me for a while. I'd look at him, this grown man who was holding Max and talking about kindergarten pick up for Big Sister. And he was a grown man. But then I'd look again, and he was 2 years old and blond, and wearing a "I'm the Big Brother" T-shirt. And then I'd look yet again, and he was.............well, I don't know, he was kind of shape shifting in front of me. It was dizzying.
So I sat and held Max for a while. He fussed, and I was able to calm him back down. I held him and rocked him and prayed over him and marveled over him. Then I handed him back to Older Son.
Who reached for him and said, "There's my little boy".
And I thought in that moment, "There's my little boy."
And suddenly he was crystal clear to me: He was 32, and 2, and 16, and 24 - all at the same time.
Life is good.