Roxanne’s Not-A-Speech Wedding Story

Many of you know that our oldest daughter got married this summer.

It was an event of such family celebration that six weeks later, we’re still riding the high.

During the reception, her father made a lovely speech about change and growth in marriage. (Plus fatherly wisdom and the usual lightly-veiled parental threat of they’ll-never-find-your-body-if-you-ever-hurt-her.)

I heard it for the first time while we were standing at the podium and it made me cry.

I am lucky to be married to such an insightful (and teachable!) man.

I was unlucky to be the following act, especially since I’m lame at speeches.

But I like stories. And since we’re a family of avid readers, it seemed fitting that I read a story that I wrote when our daughters were very young.

A few people have asked about it, and Stephanie has given me permission to share, so here it is:

Initiation

Once upon a time a young couple had a baby. This utterly unremarkable occurrence that happens every day around the globe, ordinary as dirt, was as momentous to them as a meteor hitting the ground. Unbelievable, really, to think that a 6 pound 4 ounce bundle of eyes and limbs and noise could turn a naïve, hesitant girl to mother and a nervous, unprepared boy into a father.

Unbelievable, really, that they were allowed to leave the hospital with her.

These uncertain parents took great pains to learn their new roles. The baby was fed and changed and rocked. The mother played Patty-Cake, read Runaway Bunny, sang Twinkle Twinkle. The father played Choo-Choo with the strained peas and gave tummy raspberries. The baby grew smiley and cuddly and learned to wave her arms to be picked up.

She also learned to spit those strained peas and scream in the grocery store and weep and wail when the lights went out. From the very start, this baby, like all babies, took, took and took. And the parents gave, gave and gave, because that’s what parents do.

Time passed. The little girl grew strong and mobile, and her needs changed. She began to ask questions. Lots and lots of questions. She began to say no. To many, many things. She learned to love Cheerios, to hate her car seat, to become a big sister, to resent sharing, to be excited about vacations, to demand “I wanna go home, I wanna go home,” at bedtime in a hotel.

The mother loved her baby, but sometimes she was afraid, and even angry at how much was required of her. Sometimes, in secret, the father wondered if he was strong enough, or smart enough to do this wonderful, terrifying job. But each night, when they looked at their little girl sprawled crosswise in the bed, her hair every which way, limp with sleep and replete with trust, they felt themselves grow and become somehow… more… than they were before she was born.

One day the mother looked up from her work and saw with a start that the baby who had changed her life had sprouted tall. Her face was steady and knowing, and there was a slender grace to her once-gangly limbs. The mother searched wonderingly for signs of her baby and found her again in the clear blue eyes that sparkled just as they did on the day they first opened on the world.

Then, as the mother watched, she saw this baby-child-woman stoop suddenly to kiss her little sister. The sight of that small, unbidden kindness caused the mother’s heart to leap and swell and with a gasp, she felt all the care, all the giving rush back, bursting upon her like a garden in spring.

The years went on and the parents – naturally – were called upon again and again to give of themselves. But now when they do it returns in a flood, a stream of love looping back, growing swifter, stronger, wider, magnifying and spreading, bringing with it new, fresh gifts and more joy than those parents could have ever imagined.

Once upon a time a young couple had a baby. And she rocked their world.Thank you, Stephanie, for bringing Steven into our lives. We love you both so much!