I was semi-there, the very first time C looked at his newborn baby boy. I was high out of my head, on hc post-op and pain drugs as well as on the event itself, but the one thing, the only thing I remember from that day, is C standing next to my IC unit bed (much love to our dear friend from the ward, who managed to sneak him in), absolutely glowing. For real. Like, producing blinding bright light. Mostly from his head.
He was holding a tiny white loaf of bread…a slightly oversized croissant…and he kept saying in a whispery voice, all broken from trying to keep the tears in..”Look, babe! Look what we did! He is so perfect! Look at our beautiful baby!”.
I passed back out before I could actually see our loaf. I probably wouldn’t be able to see anything from C’s beaming anyways, but I think my mind and my body fought the heavy drugs just long enough for me to hear the words “he is perfect” and to see C holding him and looking at him.
And then back to over&out.
10 years later, I see that very look, the look made of true awe and shiny bright light and protection and pride and warmth and love itself, that fully focused look, every single time I see C look at the young man that once was a croissant in his hand(s).
And every time I see that look, I can’t help but think how this kind of a perfect match, which has been developing into the closest and most loving bond between two humans I’ve ever seen, cannot possibly be just some random event…can it? It has to be something else…It must be that they chose each other just like C and I chose each other, and just like V chose me ‘cos I was hoping so very much for exactly him…
Happy Father’s Day to C, the best daddy I know, always shining on us with the brightest light, most loving heart and warmest knuffels in the whole wide world.