My little Dev is going to be a mom in the next few days. It is one of those mysteries of life that catches my breath. Because I am the last one in the family to be married and the last one to be thinking seriously about having children, I have watched this stuff happen to people around me, people I love the most. And inside me I am always a bit off guard by these momentous steps that happen so easily and naturally.
One day, when I was almost three, I was taken to the hospital to get a first look at my little sister. This glace at a little baby is my very first solid memory and I can actually draw that fuzzy feeling image back. She was all mine until eighteen years later when she met B and then slowly we detached and she became his.
Now, she is on bed rest, waiting for her baby boy to decide he is ready. She and B will be a mom and a dad, like our parents are for us. They will give him the best they can, raise him to be a good, strong, loving man and make sure he gets lots of tickles and raspberry blows on his belly, even when he is too old to allow himself to enjoy it. Maybe he will play drums like B did or violin like Dev. Ultimately, no matter how cute his name is, I will always call him something else, like I did with his mama.
And for now, he will have at least one cousin (shout out to JB) who he will grow up with and their lives will follow the same track of innocence, freedom, love and they will feel the same awe when life starts happening around them and then finally, to them.