Thanks Dad

by Phil Cross
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New ceiling fan

The new ceiling fan my dad helped install for the baby's room.

This post is a little late in coming, but we have a baby now, so I get a pass on getting things done for…well how long can I use the ‘new baby’ excuse?  Anyway, yes that is a picture of a ceiling fan in the baby’s room.  My dad came down a few weeks ago (the same time my mom was staying with us to watch Selah while the babysitter was on vacation) and helped me with several things.  The biggest of which was this new ceiling fan and light for Selah’s room.  I was looking at it again tonight and realized it what a huge help my parents and my dad have been.  I can’t wait for the day when my little girl (and any other future kids) are able to say “Thanks Dad” about something I’ve done for them.

The last visit from my parents also gave me one of those “blow your mind” experiences.  We were all sitting in the living room talking, or watching TV, or something and I was holding Selah.  Then I looked over and saw my mom and dad watching me hold my little girl.  What is that like?  I was once as little as my baby and they once held me the same way.  What is that like to have that view point?  Looking at a grown up, thinking of the child they once were.  Boom!  Yep that was my mind blowing again.

Selah's First Roll Over

Selah after rolling over for the first time...just under 4 months old.

I don’t want to be one of those “my baby’s growing up so fast” kind of parents, but Selah just learned to roll over.  We’ve got boxes of clothes she’s already outgrown…clothes that at one time seemed so big on her.  When I hold her and she looks up at me I try to save a mental image of that face looking up at me.  My mind tries to do one of those sitcom flashback montages, where it’s the same shot, but everyone grows up in a series of pictures.  Granted I only have 4 months to time lapse through, but I can’t help but think that someday those big brown eyes will be graduating high school and college (and with any luck some post-graduate work that will ensure she has enough money to pay for the good nursing home).  How will I look at her then?  How will she look at me then?  Will she look at me and say “Thanks Dad” or will she, like me, not learn to appreciate her parents until she’s lived on her own for a while?  I guess I just have to take time and relish in these moments where she’s all mine and still looks at me with wonder.

She also loves to look at the ceiling fan with wonder.  If she could talk I bet she’d say thanks grandma and grandpa for taking time to visit and help out so much.

Oh and this is not to say Keiana’s parents don’t do anything.  I could write a novel on all they have helped out with as well…but this one was about my parents.  Luckily I have been blessed to have two sets of parents (now grandparents) who love me and my wife.  I really could not be luckier.

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