Baby Roger And I At The Park

This is a note about a very dear memory I have about my son who was born three months prematurely.

To Roger…

One warm spring day after you were born I put you in your blue stroller and pushed you down Sandy Lane to the Old Park.  That day was like so many that time of the year.   It was warm, sunny, with a few fluffy white clouds streaming to the north on the south breeze.  It was a perfect day to be in the park with you when you were little.

What I remember the most about the afternoon, a Saturday I think, was holding you against me on a swing.  We went back and forth many times and you fell asleep against my chest.  You were out like a light as I faced north to other side of the park where I could see the fence of our back yard with the big oak tree towering over the roof of our house on Monterrey Drive.  It was a view of our part of the world from what became a favorite place of you and your sister.

As I looked at our house I kept swinging slowly with you, there was no one around and the park was quiet and still. The birds were chirping above our heads and the wind swooshed through the big oak trees. Except for the brief sound of a car on Sandy everything was calm and serene.

And that instance of quiet, the all-surrounding silence, was most clear that day; a time of calm after the chaos of your birth when you were so very sick.  There you were, my little boy, sound asleep in my arms. You who had been so very sick were now home and well with your dad who loved you so very much.

That time was very special to me.  You seemed to know you were safe and sound as you slept soundly up against me on that swing in the Old Park near our former home.  I’ll never forget that moment.  An instant of peace when I thought back about the terrible time you had been through not long before.  We all go through times of peril to calming moments of safety and tranquil quiet in our lives.  That peaceful warm spring day was such a time.

 

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