The day before my sister went into the hospital to have her first child.
I talked with my sister every so often on the phone. She sounded tired. (no DUH) and the last time I chatted with her she said they thought it was going to be awhile. Roughly 2 hours later early in the afternoon the phone rang again. I was expecting maybe my Dad calling from Bolivia or somebody else but it was my sister who merely said, "He's out!"
I yelled for my mom to grab her stuff. I grabbed my jacket, raced around the house to find my keys and bellowed for my mom to HURRY UP OR I WAS GOING TO LEAVE HER!!! I couldn't fathom why she was interested in making sure her hair was properly curled...she had just become a grandma!
We got to the hospital, (as I recall the first family members on the scene,) with great haste and I remember literally bouncing with excitement as we walked into her hospital room. It was dark and Bill was in the corner with this wiggling little worm with a LOT of dark hair. Bill handed him over to my mom and said, "Here you go, Grandma!"
Up close he looked less slimy. He looked...exactly like my youngest brother when he was a baby. My mom said, "He's the fourth most beautiful baby in the world!" (the first 3 being her own babies.)
I remember holding him and looking at him...this perfect little boy fresh into the world. I couldn't believe he had come out of my sister.
My sister looked so tired and so beautiful.
A few days later when I showed up at her house to help out she just looked tired.
"Can you please watch him so I can go take a shower?" she whimpered.
For many, many reasons my having to wait a year to go to art school was a blessing...but a biggie was the amount of time I got to spend bonding with both my sister AND my new nephew. I was over at their place as often as I could go. I played with him incessantly and it delighted me to no end that when he would see me his eyes would crinkle in a smile and then the rest of his face would catch up. When I finally DID go off to Sheridan I was afraid he wouldn't remember me. At the end of the first semester though we went straight from the airport to go help my sister move. Upon arriving at the apartment I saw him sitting on the floor. He looked up, his eyes crinkled and he lifted his arms to be picked up.
And today he is eight and his eyes still crinkle when he sees me. My life is so much better for knowing this little boy.