How Many Does it Take?

I am often reminded of the frailty of life.  Whether it be articles I read on FB asking for likes and prayers for some person battling cancer.  A wishful thought for a soldier putting his life on the line every day.

Just two days ago I received a brochure in the mail from the outfitter we used last year for our fly-in fishing trip and the founder George Sr. had passed away.

Death is a part of life, we all know it.  It doesn't make it any easier but it does allow us a chance to celebrate life.   My life, your life...our life.

I regularly fail to appreciate the good people and the good things in my life and as I approach fatherhood I find myself reflecting back on all the things I should have done or better yet - not done.

As a person of strong fortitude, I allow myself such miseries, if only to learn from them.  While some may bask in their own sorrow and backstroke in pools of pity I find that if I just make one small step towards betterment (on account of experience) I can impact my future greatly.

Not only my future but others as well.  My step-children know full well what the ramifications are of certain actions and I can only hope that my experiences will lead them to educated decisions as I was not the only one in the family who suffered through these.

Which leads me to the topic of this blog post:

The countdown has begun and while an odd number to begin with it coordinates with my blogging schedule.

We have 93 days left before baby Corabella joins our family.

I'll be honest, I'm scared to death of everything right now.  Every time my wife grunts or winces my heart rate goes up.  I'm constantly asking her if she is alright.  At 26 weeks pregnant, she is really feeling the pregnancy kick in.  Quite literally as she often calls me into the bedroom to feel Corabella kicking.  Of course, I think the baby hears me coming and instantly returns to suspended in utero action.  It never fails.

I search the internet frequently.  Checking on development status and looking for that magical date where baby can survive out of the womb.  It's terrible to think about it all the time but I can't help it. Experience has made me this way and I am unable to adjust those feelings.  I keep it quiet for the most part (until now)

Angel is doing just fine (knock, knock) and even her belly button has popped out like a turkey timer!
We have our baby shower coming up in a month and the nursery is well on its way to being habitable.

Yesterday I finished up the green lower paint and painted all the trim white as well as the door and closet doors.  The last thing remaining on the painting is to install the chair rail, of which I painted yesterday as well.

Valances have been ordered for the windows.  A combination crib and changing table along with mattress has been delivered by my lovely parents as a gift for baby Corabella.

A new closet organizer is waiting to be installed in her closet once I finish the paint job.

It is an amazing experience to go through.  The hope and the anticipation drive me to better and better things daily.  I only hope I can be the best father a child ever had.  Growing up and changing ways at 41 years of age is not an easy task but one that I accept willingly and wholeheartedly.

I was driving to work the other morning.  It was clear and cold.  The stars twinkled brightly and the lights from town were shooting rays of light high into the sky.  It was as heavenly and surreal as a cold winter morning can get.  As I neared the intersection which would take me straight into town I saw a shooting star.

It wasn't just an ordinary shooting star either.  There was something magical about this spot/intersection.  It wasn't the first time I had seen a shooting star from this very spot.  It wasn't the second or the third either.  In fact, I had witnessed so many that I had lost count.  It had been going on for years.

I always wished for the same thing.

When I saw that star this week, I thought back on all the times I had wished and a tear came to my eye.  How many shooting stars does it take?

How Many Does it Take?

for Corabella

Twinkling high in the sky,

I saw you shooting.

Bursts of brilliance,

streaks of light.

I imagined your tiny fingers,

pointing up,

and watched your eyes,

reflecting the stars.

I wished and I wished,

but it never came true.

The same place,

and the same time.

How may does it take?

I asked - not me.

How many stars must die,

before one lives?

And then one day,

again the streak of light.

I chuckled and shook my head,

but wish I did.

As the star faded out,

I looked away. 

I must have missed,

as it re-lit along the way.

Then came the day,

when my heart no longer aches.

All those shooting stars,

That many...it takes.

Be the best you can be,

-Bushman