It is strange where I have found myself over the last week. Not
what I expected, and surprisingly sad. As I was holding Caleb the
other day, the thought struck me: he is growing, and I’m losing
For the first three weeks, he was so little, so fragile. I could
see it on his face, feeling air on his face, having the freedom to
stretch out his limbs, it was all very new to him. His head, his
frame, he was so tiny and thin. Every time he woke up, it
was as if he was surprised that he was outside of the womb and now
there was a gigantic face staring at him.
But as I was holding him the other day, he felt heavier, his head felt
more firm and definitely larger. The world is still a curious
place for him, but it is feeling more like home to him. He’s
growing up, he’s getting bigger, and this new daddy can barely stand
the thought of it.
I told my wife today that we need to put an end to this and stop
feeding him. She, of course, had to be logical and told me that
“then we would have no more Caleb.” But it is strange, I look
forward to seeing him grow up, but I also mourn over the Caleb that I
once could curl up into a tiny little ball and snuggle between my chest
As I was holding him today–he was asleep on my chest–I just could not
stop feeling love for this little man. His face was smooshed
against me, his hair all fuzzy after we gave him a bath, and I just
could not stop wanting to kiss him over and over and over again.
I got up to walk around just so that I could press him close to me.
I feel like I am losing my son, which most people would say is
ridiculous. But God, I feel, is telling me that life is a
gift. While time is not the enemy, it is the road upon which
change occurs. In two weeks, Caleb will be bigger and more
accustomed to his surroundings than he already is today. The
bittersweet feelings such a reality produces in me causes me to
recognize that I must enjoy every day that I have with him, because
today will become tomorrow’s yesterday, and I will never be able to
retrieve it. I am not just speaking about living without regrets,
but about living in the now and enjoying it. My precious son, who
can do little more than stare back at me and snuggle against me,
manifests God’s grace to me. Who am I to be a father to this
delicate angel? I savor every chance I get to hold and behold
him. Wouldn’t you?