Four years ago I got a call that my first great nephew was coming, early, rough, skidding into this world. And for a long night I prayed. For days and then weeks pictures would arrive of a red, scrawny, angry looking baby in an incubator. I would show them around, telling people he was the most beautiful great nephew ever, if only in my eyes.
This morning, from Winnipeg, in a sunlight hallway in the Education Building at the University of Manitoba, I called to say happy birthday before my first meeting.
And a not so little voice yelled out at me –
“It’s my birthday Aunty Cheryl Smarties”.
It is hard to believe that this little boy I willed to breathe could share words – words tumbling out and over and around in hisexcitement, his palpable glee spilling from my phone and puddling around my feet as I paced in a hallway.
Time, it passes. We say that, nodding our heads sagely. We talk about how things work out, what is meant to be will be.
Not often enough do things seem to work out in a way that I would call fair and just. In the middle of it, it seems so very long and the world filled with such unfairness.
This morning though, as I watched the sunriseover snow, facing south towards him and I asked what he was going to do today, as I promised him presents and a photo of me in a super hero t-shirt later (Darth Vader, if you were wondering) I realized.
There are “And then” moments.
And it is glorious. He is here and whole and healthy and filled with joy.
What was meant to be, became.