The New Arrival Part II

Here's the proud papa -- my little brother Matt.

This evening, Morgan was more awake, which is to say slightly. Her eyes occasionally opened into tiny little sleepy slits, glowering over a wee pout as if to say "Leave me alone, fool! Are you trying to blind me with that bloody camera flash? Let me sleep, you great papparazzian oaf!"

Or at least that's what I imagined her saying. Too much Family Guy, I guess.

It's the everyday miracles that leave us speechless. We regularly fly miles above the earth's surface without giving it a second thought, make instantaneous contact around the world electronically, perform daily any number of things that would have been unthinkable a mere century ago, but I imagine we share with our primordial ancestors the same wordless awe in the face of this new life that we ourselves create, the tremor of wonder as we hold this fragile, whimpering little being, so helpless and tiny in this vast new world that we feel ourselves turning into single-minded protectors. My niece isn't yet twelve hours old and I already feel capable of any act of violence that would protect her from anyone wishing her harm.

And here's the proud uncle, terrified as he holds this tiny human. (I wish I'd thought to remove the sunglasses before taking this picture). I can't believe I won't be seeing her again for a month and a half -- and then not after that till Christmas. Matt has promised to send many many pictures, which anyone accessing this blog will have to suffer through (don't worry -- they'll be a welcome break from all the pictures of my cat you'll also be seeing if you tune in regularly).

Such a bewildering moment -- I found my ability to form proper sentences. I can't even begin to imagine what kind of a shambles Matt and Michelle's minds must be.

I leave the wonder of the moment to a better fool than I:
"The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man's hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report."

You said it, Bottom.