Cradled in My Father’s Arms

Dear Michael and Caroline,

I heard my father never held me as a baby. My grandmother Sheft told me that. It could be true.
Maybe he, new to babies, felt uncomfortable holding one. Maybe his own father never held him as a baby, either.

Then again, maybe my grandmother just never saw my father hold his first-born son. Or maybe my mother never saw my father hold me as a baby, and then told my grandmother. That could be the case.

If so, what might it mean?

Maybe my father held me when no one was looking. Maybe he waited until my mother and grandmother left the room, and only then, without anyone else around, with no one to tell him he was doing it wrong or should stop, he would hold me.

Or maybe he slipped over to my crib at night when everyone was sleeping and saw me awake and picked me up. It could be he just wanted complete privacy in this most intimate act. He might have wanted no one to see him as he cradled me in his arms and brought my face close to his face and told me he loved me.

He might have preferred to be alone with his baby boy, free to touch my cheek with his finger and stroke my brow and generally admire the creature he had co-created.

That’s what I’d like to believe happened.

But whether I actually do is another matter altogether.

P.S. – See Part 2 tomorrow.

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