He’s Home

Silas came home yesterday. We spent most of the day waiting, straightening up, then waiting some more. We made a trip to the grocery store just as a heavy downpour began to fall. Of course, my wife did her thing…

But in this she received some unexpected help. The woodland theme has dominated Silas’ entry into the world. For one thing, his father is a Park Ranger, but it also happens to be pretty adorable. His nursery looks like a set of Animal Kingdom. So imagine our delight when as we were leaving the house for the grocery store—And this guy paid a serendipitous visit…

Soon after he got home, they sent me on some errands to a Publix on one side of town and a Target on another. When I got back, Pam had ordered Jon and Kaitlin to bed for a nap while she looked after Silas. It was then that I got a turn holding him for almost an hour. He was asleep for most of it, so I just sat there talking to him, singing him some songs and talking nonsense. I had been waiting for this moment for about ten years. I was not prepared for the avalanche of conflicting emotions. On the one hand I was so proud of my kids and their abilities as parents, but on the other hand I wanted to do everything for them, shielding them from the hard parts. 

I am struck by the irony of the fact that I am newly retired, a time when most people reward themselves with new toys and new adventures here there and everywhere—but all I want to do is make sure that this little boy has everything in the world he needs. It’s a foolish wish, not to mention unattainable. He will never have everything he needs. Life doesn’t work that way. He will have struggles in this world. But it’s the struggling that brings growth and inspires accomplishment. Having everything handed to him would ruin him for all time. But where is the line between blessing and spoiling? I guess I’ll figure it out in time.

For now I hold him and watch his little feet kick into the air. I watch his little hands flop around. He is so tiny, remarkably fragile, yet fiery and resilient. Every once in a while he will open his eyes and look around, then fix those beautiful eyes on me. He will stare at me with great intensity. I will say some nonsensical thing in response while I feel my throat tighten. I’m not sure I have ever been this proud of another human being in my life—and he’s done absolutely nothing to deserve it. I love him because of who he is, not what he’s done. I may have finally grasped the concept of grace.