My wife had a non-traditional baby shower for Dancing Bear this past Saturday. Dancing Bear, if I hadn’t mentioned it previously, is our name for the baby-to-be until he or she is born. It is easier that saying they (my mother thought we were having twins when I said that) or saying he/she. We do not know the gender or anything else about him or her, except that he or she loves to move. He or she loves to move constantly, at all hours of the day or night. My wife just fell asleep on the couch and I can still see Dancing Bear moving. (See, it’s easier than all that he or she stuff.)

What is non-traditional? First, everyone sat down to a meal. My wife had made a quiche and SAM (her version of comfort food) served as a dip. Everyone was asked to bring a story to celebrate motherhood or our son as an older brother or Dancing Bear as our new arrival. The stories were shared as each of the guests painted my wife’s belly. Despite my wife’s desire to not receive gifts, the painting was followed by the giving of gifts.

They never made it to the Raqs Sharqi.

I should tell you that my wife subscribes to the theory that this dance evolved from moves designed to aid in birthing. Both of us believe that it began as an ethnic dance, thus the Arabic name I used instead of the English name that has all kind of negative connotations.

In any case, the women that attended felt that painting the belly should be a new tradition established here. I hope it takes hold. My wife felt extremely beautiful and she gushed all day.

The Lord provides for times like these. I had thought at the time that this was done to help my wife feel close to a select few women friends.

It turns out that my grandmother-in-law, who had been sick for a while, passed away Saturday night. We had heard last week that she might have four to six months. We had made plans to travel to see her. I had never met her in person and she had never met our son. As it turned out, the first call we received was that she had stopped the chemotherapy and had her pain medication increased. The prognosis changed from 4 -6 months to days. I took the call, so I had the unenviable task of relaying this to her.

My wife has never had a family member die. She asked many questions familiar to me. In the end, though, she asked me if it seemed like her grandmother had accepted her mortality. About then, we got the second call which said that she had passed shortly after we received the first call. Fortunately, my mother-in-law and most of the family made it there before it happened.

I considered our son for a long time after that.

I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would never ever think to myself that I want to hold my son a little tighter. I have always taken this to mean that it is tempting to take the children for granted, so when reminded of the inevitability of death, take the time to spend a poignant moment with them. I did not understand why it would be necessary. I still do not. Maybe it is my intense nature.

He certainly didn’t think it was necessary. Whatever ‘precious moment’ we may have been able to experience evaporated in the seventieth chorus of “Itsy-Bitsy Spider”. After that, he wanted to tell me all the adventures of our cat, Shahkah. Considering his vocabulary, the story goes, “Shahkah eats. Shahkah {is over} there. YAY! Shahkah. Shahkah {is} upstairs.”

I did, however, consider the new life of our son and the passing life of our relative. Our son transitions from baby to child and later from child to adult. The other has transitions to the grave to await the resurrection on the last day, and later to judgment. I am reminded of lines of a hymn written by Jeanne Wilson

Time is filled with swift transition,
Naught of earth unmoved can stand,
Build your hopes on things eternal,
Hold to God’s unchanging hand.

Trust in Him who will not leave you,
Whatsoever years may bring,
If by earthly friends forsaken
Still more closely to Him cling.

Covet not this world’s vain riches
That so rapidly decay,
Seek to gain the heav’nly treasures,
They will never pass away.

When your journey is completed,
If to God you have been true,
Fair and bright the home in glory
Your enraptured soul will view.

Jennie Wilson – “Hold to God’s Unchanging Hand”

My son sleeps peacefully as I go in and kiss his forehead. Maybe I am not so intense after all.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord.