A Life in the Day

(I wrote this post two weeks ago, but I had to put a lid on it until the news became public. If you don’t mind, just pretend it’s two weeks ago and this news is fresh. Maybe pretend to be surprised–comments with lots of exclamation points would be appropriate. Possibly an emoji? And thanks to those who texted me to tell me the HurlsTreehouse link was broken. Not broken, just delayed.)

Most days are forgettable, the hours blending one with the next, day to day, one week morphing into another, years rolling by, and so on and so on. Ask yourself–how many of the past 365 days can you specifically recall? Will you remember this day in a year? Or even a week from now?

Wednesday was largely forgettable. I worked on the Devlin sequel, still unnamed now. I’m up to 34 pages, but they’ll need lots of revision. The turkey sandwich was good, the refills plentiful. But really, it was just another day of writing and doing “stuff.” That’s what retired people do–stuff.

Thursday was fun. I met with my small group, played golf with MJ (we played poorly, thanks for asking), and I came home to wash my stinky body and rest a bit. The fam watched a few episodes of The Good Doctor. Then off to bed, eight hours of sleep interrupted by three trips to pee. It was typical, good, enjoyable July 18, devoid of any highs or lows.

But today, this was a day. Mark it on the calendar, July 19, enter it in your journal, photograph the participants, and tell the world. Remember the Bugs Bunny opening? (Here it is in one minute of technicolor glory.) Overture, Curtain, Lights! Bugs and Daffy dancing across the stage, eventually joined by the whole Looney Tunes gang. That’s what this is, a proclamation announcing the future arrival.

I have three amazing, wonderful, talented, fantastic children (what, me biased?). I can’t imagine life without any of them. All grown up now, they work jobs and have found their way, each following their own path. That’s a source of great satisfaction.

But, you have to admit, there’s something about a baby.

In the coming months, Mindy will grow, Grow, GROW. The house will change; it must change. What is currently Dave’s (Mindy’s hubby) office will likely house Ruby and her zoo of stuffed animals. Her former will room will morph to a nursery. Schedules will change as well, in ways we can’t even anticipate.

I know, I know, easy for me to get excited. I’m just Pagwa (Ruby-speak for grandpa). My body won’t be wrecked by an expanding life force. I don’t have to waddle and sigh and consider every ounce of food or drink before I consume them. Caffeine and I will remain friends. I can continue to sleep in any position. Sure, I’ll bear some extra burden, but at the end of the day, I get off pretty darn easy.

Even when Melanie birthed our three kiddos, I was pretty much the slacker. Yep, run to Baker’s Square for a chocolate peanut butter cup pie. Even in bad Chicago weather, that’s a pretty small price to pay. Rub her shoulders. Accompany her to a doc visit. Small potatoes.

When it was time for the birthing, I made sure to bring my snacks (and Melanie) to the hospital. She didn’t sleep for the first four months of MJ’s life. Night after night, she hunkered in a recliner with a baby barnacle who refused to sleep in his bed. We call that period the Lost Era, and we don’t mean the TV show.

The next year won’t be all rainbows and butterflies and Frango Mints. Under the best circumstances, there will be tough, tough times. I get it. I’ve been through some tough days.

But I went to bed Thursday night and woke up Friday to news of a new life. July 19, that’s a day I will remember. I hope there are more days, good days, like that in my future. I hope that’s true for you too.

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