The
days are passing so quickly. One day when I need to remember the most special
times of my life, I will close my eyes and picture these special days and
moments in time, here and now.
Journee
is crawling now. We put her down and watch in amazement as this tiny, sweet
baby gets so excited when she realizes she is free! She rocks back and forth as
if she is getting the momentum to GO!
She looks around, and then tentatively puts out one arm. Then without
further hesitation she goes to it, crawling until she decides she wants to sit
up. She maneuvers her little leg underneath herself and rocks on her sweet
little bottom until she is balanced and then sits up and just beams. She looks
so proud of herself and claps as if to say, “I did it all by myself!” She then finds something (anything, the leg
of a chair, table or human will do) and pulls herself up and then looks at us
as if to say, "Okay, I'm standing.
What now?" She hasn’t quite
figured that out yet. We sit her back on the floor and laugh because when she
sees anything she wants invariably she manages to get it one way or another –
if not by crawling or rolling, she is very
expressive and there is always a willing adult around.
She
astonishes us with how much she is aware of her world. Just this week, I sat her down on the floor
surrounded by all her toys. This did not
suit Baby Girl. I watched from the
kitchen as she crawled toward me, heartbrokenly sobbing and every once in a
while looking up at me with little waterfalls running from her beautiful blue
eyes and down her cheeks. She continued
to crawl and sob until she was almost where I stood, when she paused by the
doorway to Nana and Papa's room. I
wondered for a brief instant if she was simply distracted. And then it happened...in the middle of her
sobs, I hear "Na-na-NANA!!!" I
looked at my baby in shock as I realized she recognized that was the room where
Nana played with her, dressed her for bed and rocked her to sleep.
My
daughter also knows that it is the room where the pony lives. He perches on
Pa's speaker and sometimes Pa and Nana will get it down and let her play with
Mr. Pony for a while. She has not
mastered the English language as of yet, but Journee has no problem whatsoever
letting all of us know exactly what she wants. She looks at Mr. Pony, then
looks at Pa and Nana. If they are not paying attention to her (which is rare!)
she will begin to lift her voice. When she has their attention she will look at
the pony and point. Usually, that is enough to get her what she wants. If not,
she looks back at them and then points to the pony and says something like,
“Puhhh.” That always does it and Mr. Pony is given to her, if only for a few
minutes. Since she has a bad habit of chewing his mane, less is preferable!
Most
mornings, I wake to the sound of her playing in her bed with Connity, her
special Cabbage Patch doll. No matter
how tired I am, I smile as I listen to her cooing and laughing. Each morning when I step into her nursery and
she sees me her eyes light up and her face is transformed with the biggest
smile. She begins waving her arms and I
say, "Good morning, Princess." I pick her up and she snuggles into my
arms and pats me on the shoulder with obvious approval, all the while wrinkling
her nose at me and laughing her little half-laughs. We have these amazing conversations during
breakfast, intermingled with "Num!" She loves sharing my morning eggs
even after she has already had her breakfast.
Most food is “Num!” but the chocolate pudding Pa usually manages to
sneak to her when we aren’t looking always gets an enthusiastic “NUM-NUM!!”
That always gives the secret away no matter how innocent Dad tries to look.
My
days are filled with her smiles, her million and one facial expressions, her
sweet laughter, and tears when nothing will suit her but my arms. There are challenges, yes. She is a very busy little girl even when she
is in our arms. She wants to sit up, she lies down, she tries to climb us as if
we are trees, she admires the ceiling lights, she wants to check out what’s on
the floor and holding her is like juggling several porcelain trinkets. Most nights I help Nana with her bedtime bath
and it sometimes takes us both to hold her still long enough to get her
dressed. I fix her bottle and after she has went to dreamland in Nana’s arms we
kiss her night-night and lie her down in her own soft bed. My last thought is always a prayer of
protection and thankfulness for my living miracle.
I
am with her so much I don't realize those subtle changes that my family sees
when they come home in the evening. It
escaped my notice how tall she was getting, that her face was slowly losing
that baby look, that her tummy is now protruding over her diaper and that her
hair on top is getting thicker. All that
usually registers is the day to day issues: she cried today because I had to do
some things and she didn’t want her toys, she wanted her mama because getting
those first teeth are so painful; she finally finished her food, but wouldn't
drink her juice; how many diapers I have changed and how many loads of laundry
are still waiting to be done. I am absorbed in the number of poopy diapers she
has and the consistency (or non-consistency) of the poop in those diapers.
Those are the things that occupy my thoughts most of the time.
Then
there are days like today when I see my baby in Mamo's arms, laughing up at
her, and it hits me. It hits me
hard. My baby is taller. Her tummy is rounder and in her eyes, I see
new knowledge. It also hits me that
although the days run together and I feel that I can't catch my breath in
between the endless laundry, diapers and bottles, she is absolutely what makes
my world go around and this is the essence of life. I see the wonder in her eyes when we give her
a new toy and her surprised reaction to seeing twinkling lights for the very
first time. I love to watch her pat my dad's face and when her Nana walks in
the room, baby girl gets so excited her whole body squirms to get in her
arms. I hear the love in my family's voices
as they talk to her. She lifts her arms
to her daddy to pick her up and every time she does this, I see that pride in
his face. I watch fascinated as she
gives baby kisses to my mom (who is the only one who receives these kisses and
only when SHE wants to give them!). I
tear up sometimes as I watch her lay her cheek against my Mamo's aged
cheek. I look forward to seeing her
excitement Christmas morning and I wonder if she will stare raptly at Papa when
he reads the story of THE Baby born in a manger and how the Heavenly Host
proclaimed His birth. It is still amazing to me how still she will be when Pa
puts his hand on her head and prays for her – it is as if in her baby wisdom
she is aware a sacred rite is occurring.
Today,
I was in a not so pleasant place, a place where people’s hope comes in the form
of poison dispensed through an IV and I heard words like "aggressive and
low risk/medium risk/high risk." I
watched as the sight of my happy baby brought smiles to these people in various
stages of treatment, some walking slowly with their IVs, some with caps to hide
their loss of hair. From the window, I
stared at the rain pouring from the Heavens and listened as my baby talked to
her pacifier and Mamo asked questions and we tried to absorb the answers. Some might question bringing Journee along to
an oncology office for Mamo's appointment, but her warm, soft body was such a
comfort while we listened to answers to questions we didn’t want to ask in the
first place.
Ever
since October when we learned Mamo was sick, I have felt time racing
forward. I want more time in the day to
make more memories that we will share with Journee one day. I pray that there’s enough time that my
daughter will remember how she giggled and got excited when Mamo gave her a
tiny sip of milk with sugar and just a hint of coffee. I want Journee to laugh and say, "Mama
raised her eyebrow at Mamo for sneaking me some caffeine, but Mama wasn't mad
because her first memory is sitting on Mamo's lap drinking milk and sugar with
a little bit of coffee!"
As
I stared from the warmth of the office to the gray outdoors with raindrops
being driven around by the cold wind, it hit me with the shock of a soft,
squishy snow ball on a warm face that these are the special times, here and
now. I mentally check them off, one by one; a rosy-cheeked, healthy baby in my
arms; my husband’s look of pride as he gazes at his baby girl; Nana and Pa so
in awe and totally captivated by this precious little baby that is their
granddaughter; Mamo’s laughter as Journee patty-cakes and her pride as she
tells everyone who will listen that she taught Journee what “eyes” meant;
Poppy’s big smile as he says, "Come here Journee-Rose;" and LOVE so
tangible if it was a color we could see it and so pure it can only be sent from
Heaven. Yes, these are the times we will
remember. These are the special times we
will hold in our hearts forever.
May
you enjoy your special times and moments this year with those you love and may
your Christmas be filled with those moments that last forever. In those immortal words from Charles Dickens,
“May God bless us, bless us everyone!”
