Yesterday, the joy-for-life tears that have been ever-present since my liver transplant in May of 2012, fell off my cheeks again. It was 6:55 in the morning. I gave up on sleep shortly after 3:00 from tossing and turning and checking my phone every thirty minutes for updates. Two times I was close to leaving Robin a note on the counter and heading to the hospital.

The text came from my son-in-law:  “Emma and Shara are doing great, happy and healthy. Emma is beautiful …”

My vision blurry with tears, wearing my Batman pajama pants and “Great dad’s get promoted to Grampas” t-shirt, I got out of my chair to find my clothes, get my keys and head to meet my newest grandbaby. But Robin was still in bed and I didn’t want to just barge in on one of the most special moments my daughter and her husband will ever experience. It took a lot to restrain myself.

I made another cup of coffee and kept my eye on my phone, impatiently waiting for a picture and more details.  Thirteen long minutes later I received her stats, “6:19 8lb 7oz 21 inches, full head of hair.” I hinted again for a picture. A few minutes later, it came, my wide-eyed wonder girl, Shara, looking just like her mom, holding her beautiful, chubby-cheeked baby.

Two very long hours later, it was finally time to barge in on their moment after sending a text hoping for the green light to come. I wasn’t in their birthing room more than ten minutes before Emma was placed in my arms.

Perfect little lips, sweet little nose, a wild head of hair and those cheeks. Those chubby cheeks. Just three hours old, her eyes were still a bit puffy. I saw them and instantly flashed back to Shara’s teen years. She had those same puffy eyes when the world would hurt her heart enough to bring tears. I smiled. And I sang to my Emma.

“Wide-eyed wonder girl
Starin’ into the sky, wonderin’ why
It’s a good, great world
But it turns around
Never mind the ground”

She didn’t seem to mind my voice at all. Her daddy remarked, “nope, you don’t look proud at all” and smiled.

“Look up high, stars above
Please don’t cry, Father’s love
Hold on tight to His hand
Dream tonight, understand”

It was the song I used to sing to her Mommy, 26 years ago, in our chilly, old, 800 square foot home where we happily made our start. Shara’s song came to my mind instantly when I looked at Emma’s face.

“Look up high, dancing bear
Please don’t cry, daddy’s prayer
Hold on tight to my hand
Dream tonight, wonderland”

Emma squeaked some tiny, little squeaks that brought a laugh from all of us. “Listen to that sweet, little voice.”

The camera came out before I could finish our song but that was okay. We have many days ahead to finish it. While Robin snapped pictures, I told my newest, precious, gift about how we would make trips for ice cream but only “after Mommy and Daddy said it was okay” so that we wouldn’t spoil her dinner. I told her I would buy a bike trailer and take her and her cousin Calvin on the Trek Across Maine with me. Her mom gave me a doubtful look with a raised eyebrow on that one.

“She’s going to have you wrapped around her finger,” her Daddy said.

She already has.

“Wide-eyed wonder girl
Starin’ into the sky, wonderin’ why
It’s a good, great world
But it turns you’ll see
Hold on tight to me”

We will finish our song, my sweet, little, Emma Hazel. We have years ahead together that are a gift. Your grampa has bonus days and is here with you today because of the incredible love of this family you have been born into. Incredible, amazing, sacrificial love. You’ll grow to know that you inherited that same love from both sides of your family from the moment we first learned that you were on your way. I will tell you the story of God’s amazing touch, His healing and His faithfulness over and over as you grow.

“Look up high, stars above
Please don’t cry, Father’s love
Hold on tight to His hand
Dream tonight, understand*”

*Wide Eyed Wonder Girl – 1989
The Choir