The clock ticks toward the end of the first day of life for my new son. And I wonder.
Holding him close in a rocking chair, I gaze into his tightly shut eyes. And I daydream.
I recall the musical beauty of his first life-affirming cry. And I pray.
I thank God for granting me a healthy son and a strong wife to deliver him. I hope He will grant me the two things for which I regularly pray; the wisdom of Solomon and the patience of Job. These are the only two things any person truly needs, as they complement one another, and both lead to all of life’s other little wants that we so often mistake as needs.
It’s easy to get sappy when talking about babies. One comedian took aim at that habit, saying that people who have children have pretty much given up on their own lives and are willing to pass the torch to another generation that may not “F it up as bad as I did.” But there’s something to that. It’s hard to look at this little 9 pound blank slate and NOT think about what could lie ahead for him.
I’m not talking about the 2044 election cycle, when he’ll first be eligible to run for the presidency. I’m talking about the simplest of things; the types of conversations we might one day have. Consider Ben Folds’ “Still Fighting It,” an ode to his son in which he imagines a day when “maybe we’ll both sit down and have a few beers.” Will he like sports? Will he be musically inclined? Will he be a multi-billionaire? Or will he grow up to have a simple job, write an occasional blog containing his ruminations about social, political and sports issues, and go on to have a child of his own?
As with most things, the truth likely lies somewhere in the middle. But I love the possibilities. And I love him.