Almost a year ago, in exactly seventeen more days, my daughter entered this world.
I know there are better introduction sentences in the classic novels of history. – Call me Ishmael. – A screaming comes across the sky. – Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. True written masterpieces of art! But I tell you this, none of those have moved me greater than the one written above. As each day passes, and the number dwindles down, I find myself becoming an even bigger mass of emotions.
Panic. Love. Anxiety. Peace. Despondent. Elated.
This tiny human who grew inside of me then entered this world via me has been part of my life for almost an entire year. From this wrinkly, sleepy little creature who fit so perfectly on my chest to the now taller than my head to waist wiggle worm, she has grown so much. I can hardly believe that all of three-hundred and forty-eight days ago I was desperately waiting to see her face for the first time when now all I see in my mind’s eye is her silly smile and bright eyes.
I will never know a greater joy then to see my daughter’s face. I will never know a more peaceful moment then when she is asleep in my arms. I will never be able to forget a moment I spend with her for the rest of my life because I try my hardest to live my time with her with everything I am.
I know, I’m sappy today, and it has everything to do with what today is. Today is the day of the funeral for my maternal grandfather four months after my maternal grandmother’s passing. I guess you can say I’m contemplating time and mortality. Both of my grandparents lived long lives into their seventies, and I know they lived well, but how long is long enough?
I’ve heard older people say, “I’ve lived a long and happy life, so I’m ready to move on to the next stage.”, but how do they ever come to that point? Will I ever understand their feeling of a life complete? I couldn’t imagine one day suddenly feeling like I had lived every moment I could live when life continues to happen around me.
Maybe they are just at peace with the way their lives played out and know that whatever greater moment there is after this life, they will still in someway play a part in the current world they live in. Maybe they realize that while their bodies may not be here, the love they shared will never die as long as their loved ones live and share it with others.
I guess I take solace in knowing the love I felt for my grandparents is still within me even though it is stung with the pain of loss. I think I’ll hold onto their memory a little tighter today, and know that it won’t die within me as long as I share it with my loved ones. And I think I know who I will start with.