Another bald-headed baby, the first boy. Later you'd sprout the white blond curls. I remember Grandma had to stay with us while mom and dad went away. She was kind of stern, but the excitement came out through the timbre of her voice. What do I remember? I was barely two and a half, but something about wood panel walls of the house, the door opening, the wrapped tight bundle, the soft coos and carefulness of the grown-ups. It was a special time and this was our little brother.I don't remember if they let me hold him even as I would be sitting on a lap with someone holding me. I do remember talking to you, your special milk cup, and later your little chubby fingers that you stuck into the little round oat pieces of cereal (ok, Cheerios).
But when you first arrived, it was the power of you, the tiny round Buddha face, all of us gathered around you waiting for you to tell us what to do. Keep life going, you say. Love life, you say. The eternal struggle. We love you.
