Firsts

It is certainly true that most parents do not love any of their children more than the other. It is also true that there is nothing like your first. I don't love Matt more but I remember more the "firsts." Listening to the first heart beat; feeling the first movement; the first time he kicked Terry in the back when we were sleeping like spoons; the first time I looked at OUR child; the first time he sucked; the first time I got covered with poop. And I remember the wheres like people remember where they were the day Kennedy was shot. Daisy Matthews, our pastor's wife gave him his first bath. (though she said he wasn't very dirty!); Matt rolled over for the first time on Jim and Cindy Woodly's floor on a braided rug covered by his blanket. He sucked on a straw for the first time at a McDonalds when we were traveling. His first step in our living room at 8 months. The first time he had a tummy ache and Terry counted the times he walked him around the table in our dining room. His first laugh when I sneezed. The first time I left him with someone and was gone for an hour. His first birthday as he and Katie sat beside each other in high chairs with their cupcakes and made a mess. The first time I gave him a ride in the back of my 3 wheeled bike. His first day of kindergarten when the bus forgot to leave him off. The first time you realize he is his own person, quite apart from you. His first kiss. His first mistake. His first day at college. His first love.
The umbilical cord is cut but it is like there will always be an invisible cord connecting you even after death. I have come to believe that same cord connects us each to God. It's hard to imagine a God that big. Amazing enough to stay connected to billions of people age to age. Maybe that's why we sometimes stop believing. It seems so impossible. So beyond our capacity to understand. I suppose that would be why we call God, God.