July 14th, 2008, 8:15 am
I woke up with a sadness, the slow seeping remembrance of the reality of the day. I have spent the past few hours thinking. Last night we'd spent a couple of hours by Eamonn's incubator. Swimming in the flow of feelings and thoughts; the distractions of noisy nurses and alarms pushingthe moment away. But, then I had the realization that this is his life. Not the hopes for the future, not the fear and regret. But right now, this is his life, as it is, and I had no time but now. And I was filled with the need to pass it all on: the love, the stories, my faith. I started singing, and I don't sing outside of an empty car, but I sang to Eamonn any song that came into my head. The Clash, Marley, Elvis Costello, Elvis Presley, U2, hymns. I talked about Dad and Sybil, and my family.I told him that I was glad he was in my life and that he was a gift. And I held his hand, his five little fingers tightening on one of mine. As he slept, I smiled through my tears, because I felt love. My love, a father's love. It was direct and full. I have begun to see what a gift my son's life is. I realize that even the pain, and grief and the fear are gifts. They upend your life, breaking you free of the thousands of useless thoughts and worries that fill your days. The fear especially razes your world and lays low anything in its way. But, in that moment of dark heartbreak, when all your hopes and dreams, personal needs and small bickering have been crushed, laid mute and voiceless by the reality that is your life, you can see this moment. And you see that fear is toothless to this moment. Fear lives in the future, in what will be. But, in this moment, with his small hand in mine, and my wife with me, I see what shuts fear up and what fear has been hiding from me. Fear washiding love. It was keeping me from really being his father. In the moment, which is all I have, I need to be his father. And in the moment, in these moments, I see what a gift all this is. I've heard this before, but until you see it, feel it, live the moments, they are just words that are crushed under the din of the everyday. Which is why the fear, and the pain, and the grief are gifts. They clear the table and let you see the moment. We have been surrounded by love, of friends and family, calling, emailing, and reconnecting. And that is the constant in this year of sorrow, with Dad's passing and now all this, we have been overwhelmed by love and prayers. And it has allowed me to see fear for what it is. When all that you fear comes topass it loses its grip. As I said, fear lives in the future, and in the present, it dies and is rendered useless to the moment. So I'm going to try to take this one lesson Eamonn has showed me and share it withMaren, to pass on his love, my father's love, God's love. To live our life as it is in these moments. To feel the love that binds us to each other, this vast network of people caring for each other, to feel love where it only lives. In this moment.Thank you for all your love, prayers, and support.