
Dear Beanpod,
A week ago today, the moment that we’d been waiting for finally arrived. You are here. You are a girl! And you have a name, Penelope.
But, you are still and will always be our beanpod. What was formerly just something that seemed figurative, that we could only observe in fuzzy black and white pictures, that your mother could feel but not touch, is now here with us every day. The change is so stark and amazing and wild that I know we have not yet been able to truly take in the whole of you and what you mean in our life. One thing that I do know is that it will be the privilege of my life to be your Dad, and I’m prepared to just ride that out.
In my notes to you over the past few months, I’ve talked a lot about countdowns, and about time. Having something to look forward to can be a wonderful thing in life. The countdown to your birth was one of the most enjoyable and exciting periods of my life. Having a date set in the future for such a momentous occasion gave me a thrilling sense of anticipation, and it also provided the practical element of helping me to make preparations.
But sometimes, we get lost in the preparation of things that we miss the moment. We get caught up in the frenzy to make everything go just right that we fail to enjoy the very thing we were getting ready for. We are constantly toiling on the “next big thing,” distracting us from appreciating the simplest and most important things in life that are right in front of us.
Today, you are 7 days old. I know where this goes. We’ll watch you grow before our eyes, and it all will happen so fast. Soon, you’ll be crawling, then walking, then talking. Pretty soon you’ll go to school, make friends, and eventually go out and build your own life.
Even here in these earliest of days as your Dad, I can already feel the want for time to stop, to let each and every moment with you just be still, to stay suspended in time, to keep it forever.
I know I can’t have that, and I know that it’s not what I really want. What I really want is for you to experience the fullness of life. To explore and enjoy, to love and be loved, to fail and succeed, to learn and to grow. I accept that our time together in your life journey will start to recede the older you get. Such is the course of life.
What I want to do now is just to live in the moment as much as I can. Tomorrow isn’t promised after all. For now, you are right here in front of me, in our care. What a wonderful blessing that is.
This is our time, Penelope Lynn. I’ll try not to get too far ahead of myself. Let’s enjoy the ride.
Love,
Your Dad






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