Isn't She Lovely

After weather observer school, I flew back to California and Barb and Douglas met me at the airport. Four months to his young mind must have seemed like an eternity because he was a little apprehensive when he first saw me. He wasn’t afraid of me; he just seemed to be unsure of what to do. All he would do was look at me and giggle, and he did that off and on during the ride home. But, after we had been home a few minutes and I sat down in my usual chair, he came running over and jumped up in my lap. It was like he was waiting for a sign that it was really me or that I was really home.

He was such a neat little kid and he developed a sense of humor really early and was good at joking and playing around. But then again, he probably had to. There weren’t many kids his age in our neighborhood so he had to play by himself or with me and his mom. One of the saddest images I can remember was looking through the screen door at him as he sat on our stoop. He had his head down in his hands, looking so lonesome and blue. Almost like he didn’t have a friend in the world, and in a way, he didn’t.  Not his own age anyway.

We spent as much time with him as we could, and we got him a little Sheltie pup that we kept for awhile. He also had a cat, an assortment of gold fish and a parakeet he named Floyd.

He was the first of my kids to literally melt my heart. One day I was sitting in the chair and he was playing with his toys on the living room floor. He stopped what he was doing and walked over and climbed up in my lap, and started playing with his toys again. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to play; he just wanted to be in my lap. What a kid.

After a few months, Barb said she was expecting again. It was a bit of a shock, but not unwelcomed news. Still showing that my neck was red, I told her and her Mom that they could have their girl this time. I couldn’t openly admit that I wanted a girl too. That wouldn’t have been macho.

This time the delivery was different. I got to go into the delivery room. Barely. It was more like a stool at the head of the delivery table, and the doctor saying something like, “You sit down there and don’t move. Don’t say a word or touch anything, and if I tell you to leave the room, don’t ask a bunch of questions, just get the hell out of here!” So I sat there without a peep.

A few minutes later Amy came into the world. After he delivered her, the doctor placed her on Barb’s tummy so we both could see her. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. Small and pudgy, wet and sticky looking and almost every color imaginable -- white, tan, black, blue, red, purple, yellow, there might have even been a touch of green here or there. Then she took a deep breath and started to cry that tiny little squeaky cry that babies make.

My world was expanding, and I loved it.