Oh, Emmett. The tiny little brown stub of what was left of your umbilical cord fell off today. It’s only the first in a long line of losses that will mark your growing older. When your mom mentioned it to me today, the news of the event made me a little sad. This day is already gone. In a couple days, you’ll coo. In a couple more, you’ll smile. After that, tummy time. Rolling over. Crawling. And off you’ll go. I’ve seen it happen before.
I want to tell you not to worry, when you’re older, about not remembering that brief moment this afternoon at lunch when you were lying on my lap and I whispered in your ear and your eyes got big and blue and bright and your face turned squarely to mine as if to say “I know you, Daddy. That’s you. I hear you. I hear you!”
I’ll remember it for us both.