On a cold, wintry snow-day that was also his one-month-old birthday, he nestled into the crook of my arm for a little while, looking at me and sucking on a substitute for food. He looked right into my eyes as I sang, "I love you...a bushel and a peck...a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck," just like I sang to his brother not too long ago.
But then, he got fussy and my singing and nestling was no longer sufficient. "Let me try," my once child and now his father offered scooping the tiny being into his arms and swaying too and fro like he was born to care for newborns. "He likes The Bill" he said referring to a sway that his cousin modeled after my mother's memorial service last year.
And with a scoop and a sway, this tiny being quieted and nestled onto his father's chest, where he was supposed to be. Perhaps, dads of the 21st Century have perfected sways that comfort tiny beings? Perhaps, my mother provided an opportunity for cousins to pass on powerful dad-sways?
No matter what, I learned that my newest grandchild likes the "Bill."
PS sometimes I plan my writing the night before with a draft and other times I draft in the morning....rarely do I wait until the end of the day....but sometimes I slice later by the skin of my pants too..