Then And Now

Between my two older sisters my mother had a boy.  He weighed two pounds, a few ounces and lived for two days.  That was over 50 years ago.  "They just didn't save babies that small back then,"my parents would often say.  They were told to go home and try again.  No discussion, no good-by.  Unfinished business.

As I listened to a young man talk about his preemie daughter last night I thought about the baby my mother named so long ago and the grief she periodically expressed throughout her life.  

The tired young parent drew me back in with his pride. "She weighed just two pounds."  He spoke like it was years ago and then with tears in his eyes added, "She's almost ten months and ten pounds.  It's like a miracle."