Parallels: Rivyn and Dad

I have a moment while the nurse is here.  I am tired.  The horror of watching my dad starve to death weighs everything down and makes any laughter we can't suppress at odd moments feel disrespectful.  But sometimes you have to laugh and sometimes you have to cry and it is what it is.

And sometimes you have to write.  I need this chance to organize my thoughts into words to settle me a little.  Or I might go crazy.  My dad informed my mom this morning that it takes great effort to go truly crazy.  I believe it may take just as much effort not to.

So what I would like to write about today are the parallels between my dad at this stage, and my nephew, Rivyn.  The obvious themes of life and death seem to scream at us at every turn.  I can't imagine struggling through this time with my parents without all the kids here to reaffirm what life is really about.  But in particular to have this precious, remarkable little baby in the house---there are no words.  You can't not smile when you look at that baby.  We are all so sad, but then here is this adorable, sweet new person interjected into all of it.  He is a lifeline.  He reminds us simultaneously of what we have and what we will lose.  We're all glad my dad got to meet him.  We are all devastated that they will never know each other.

Welcome to the World!

I have a new nephew!  The adorable Rivyn, son of my brother Barrett and his wife Dosha, arrived into the world a bit earlier than expected, but he's home now and doing well.  I got to meet him in the NICU on my way to Vermillion, South Dakota recently.  I'm looking forward to holding him next time.

I'm looking forward to lots of things!  So are my kids.  They are excited by the idea of a baby cousin to love and eventually include in all their fun.  I'm glad that my kids have each other, and that my niece has them, too, and now this little boy will be part of that cousin group and the recipient of all they want to share.  They want to pass down their favorite sand toys at the cottage and show him how to paddle an inner tube across the lake there.  They want him to bounce with them on the trampoline and bike around the neighborhood.  They want him to join in their cookie baking experiments and to help decorate our sidewalks with chalk while waiting for an ice cream truck to come by.

In good time, though.  They understand for a few years there's just a lot of aimless cuteness to admire, but of all the cliches about raising kids the one about "It goes too fast" is probably the most true.  (Followed closely by "It changes everything.")  As hard as it is to imagine right now with that little boy unable to do much more than wiggle, they will be doing those things and more with their cousin before we know it.