When I was in high school, I had the privilege of seeing a live production of the musical Once on this Island. I was captivated by the show, an island re-telling of the classic Little Mermaid story. Years later, I still find myself lost in the soundtrack at times, touched not only by the rhythms and melodies, but by its emotional core. As I reflected on my Tuesday, I found myself thinking about one particular song: “Waiting for Life.” Sung by the female lead, Ti Moune, the song focuses on her desire to live an engaged life filled with excitement and joy. On Tuesday, I experienced that, but it was through simplicity and time.
This year has been quite strange for me. While I do travel a bunch, I don’t feel like I live a jetsetter life. I see myself as a normal guy who happens to hop on a plane to go to work from time to time. I don’t tend to tear up a town when I’m in it. But this year I’ve already been to the Sundance Film Festival, the Olympics, and I have a trip to Mexico planned for April. It’s been exciting. It’s been fun. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Today’s trip was quite fun. I was already scheduled to be out in southern California for a speaking engagement this Thursday. I had planned to fly out Wednesday night. On Monday morning, my cousin sent out a text that his wife was about to deliver. Soon after, I heard they were now proud parents of a baby boy. Later that night, he and I chatted and he jokingly asked if I was going to be on the next flight out to see them. I paused for a moment and thought about it. Yes. Yes, I would. I was able to rebook my flight for the first flight out of Phoenix on Tuesday morning, quickly went home, packed, slept for a handful of hours, and before I knew it I was in the hospital with my cousins and their new son.
I always forget how tiny a newborn feels in your arms. I held him there for a bit, his arms stretching out at times. Later, my cousin and I walked him around the nursery floor. After a bit he opened his eyes. I’ve read science articles describing what babies actually see at that point, but I don’t care, I really thought he was taking in his world for the first time. There is a certain sense of discovery present.
My own grandparents arrived soon after to see their great grandson (#11 in the great grandchild department for them!). My grandma is the “baby whisperer” and it was so cool to watch him completely relax in her arms. It’s moments like this when love is there in noun and verb form, but we don’t use words to describe it.
I spent the rest of the day with his big sister. She hasn’t had a chance to meet him yet due to hospital regulations in light of the swine flu epidemic (no visitors under 16). We just played. We played catch. We climbed (I was the mountain). We sang songs. We read books. We danced. We walked. We watched a movie. And we repeated the cycle.
“Uncle Patrick, let’s play!”
“Uncle Patrick, I’m having fun!”
“Uncle Patrick, can you read to me?”
There was such an excitement present in her interactions today. We did everything all out. When we laughed, we laughed out loud. When we danced, we made sure we were out of breath when we were done. When we read a story, we read it two or three times.
After she went to sleep and my cousin headed back to the hospital to spend some more visiting time with his bride, I sat there thinking.
It was a really good day. Yes, there was a brand new baby, but the activities of the day weren’t super adventurous. They were simple life moments. They were times spent with loved ones. We didn’t spend a bunch of money, we spent a bunch of time.
I think we can “wait for life” to begin, or we can recognize that it is currently happening all around us. The excitement of our days is a direct result in how we spend them and the people we spend them with. Today, I’m glad I was able to share it with some great company!