Copyright 2004-2010 Martin Schwenke. All rights reserved.
Today was Father's Day. When Mel and Sebastian gave me a card and gifts this morning, I commented that I hadn't really thought about this Father's Day as being about me. For the past 7 months since Sebastian was born, life has been a mad scramble to try to get things done and get enough sleep. That doesn't seem to be what being a parent is about... or maybe it is?
The card included a failed attempt of ours to get Sebastian's handprint for another project. Mel cut it out and had managed to sketch it into an image of an elk. The gifts included some obligatory socks and undies, which Sebastian apparently insisted that Mel buy for me, and a beautiful photo book that I'll treasure forever.
On the day that Sebastian was born, 7 weeks early, I was terrified that we would lose him. Every time I went somewhere in the hospital I would drop by the NICU to make sure he was OK. His crib was visible from the doorway at the entrance to the NICU so I didn't even have to wash my hands and go right in to check on him - a quick glance from the doorway would reassure me. In the late afternoon I went home to feed the dogs and to organise a few things. In the evening I returned to the hospital and took a detour past the NICU on my way to see Mel. I stood in the doorway of the NICU and my heart hit the floor - Sebastian's crib was empty. However, the monitor above it was still doing all of the right things. I squinted to try and get a better view into the semi-darkness but the crib was still empty... and the monitor was still ticking away. I took a step forward to get a wider view and found that they had pushed Mel's bed up into the NICU. Mel was holding Sebastian for the first time and was smiling the most beautiful smile I had ever seen.
Sometimes music is about the bits you don't play and the space that you leave, allowing the combination to sound much more impressive than any of the parts. Unless you're used to this you can be dissatisfied because all you can hear is your own limitations. In a similar way, sometimes a celebration is about putting together the pieces that you didn't realise were painting a bigger picture because you were busy worrying about the details. Sometimes you need someone to put those pieces together for you and show you the wider view. This isn't just an endless repetition of some crazy day that we manage to scramble through and keep on coming out the other end of. We've come a long way in the past 7 months and it is simply amazing...
Mel, thanks for showing me "amazing"... and thanks for the socks and undies, I'll wear them with pride.