Last Monday Norah gave birth to an adorable little girl, Eliza. It is such a cliche but bears repeating. Life really is a miracle. To hold such a tiny bundle and see those tiny fingers and toes, those little eyes peering around, trying to make sense of their new surroundings, really stops you in your tracks. Such a tiny, fragile package to love and hold!
Pat and I were fortunate to be in Toronto for her birth. The four grandparents had their first meeting with the new little one, just a couple of hours after delivery. We have been here off and on since then. For the uninitiated, life with a newborn is like no other. The main challenge is, of course, for the mother, recovering from surgery while nursing around the clock. It's impossible to do that and take care of a two year old and a household so that's where friends and family come in. As our neighbour told us "This is work you love to do." She's right. We are more than happy to be here at this special time.
However I did go home to Ottawa on the weekend, to attend my father's 90th birthday celebrations. It was another momentous occasion. He and our entire family enjoyed the gathering. As I listened to him speak to the partygoers, around ten o'clock that night and tell a story from his early childhood, about riding a train in Saskatchewan, I was again struck by his incredible memory. As I said that night, we really lucked out in the dad department.
So, I wonder what is in store for Eliza? Will she have ninety years like Dad? Hopefully she will always be surrounded by the love of family, as Dad has been.
A daughter for Norah and Sean. If she's anything like her mother, I know how lucky they are.
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