Rowan has made me aware of the great human capacity to love someone we've never met. Tonight Rowan's great-grandmother and a pair of grandparents fly in from Indiana and Illinois. I'm sitting here thinking: he won't remember it, but what a momentous event! These people already love him so deeply, would give their lives for him even, yet have never met him. He's lying here in my lap right now, eyes open looking up at me. Even though I see him almost constantly, I'm amazed that I haven't lost the sense of awe at just how beautiful and precious he is. This feeling makes me unspeakably excited whenever another loved one will meet him for the first time.
I remember when Karis was first born: we saw her picture projected on the screen at church as part of the announcements, and a feeling gripped me like I can't even describe. I had been eager to meet her since I found out Leah was pregnant. I had wondered, what will this baby look like? What will she act like? What will it be like to meet a new being, eternal and beautiful, who I had looked forward to since I first found out she was on her way? Then, when I saw her picture, all pink and new and tiny, I realized: I LOVED her. She's the daughter of our friends, not even related to us through blood, and I couldn't believe the agonizing sense of love and concern I felt for her right away. How could that be?
I don't know. You could explain it biologically, I'm quite sure. Or spiritually, certainly. But no need. I'm happier to embrace the consequences of it, not its cause. The consequences now, for us? To know when I see my son meet a grandparent for the first time, there's an everlasting connection formed that nobody can quite understand. Good thing we don't need to. We can just embrace.