ED NOTE:  The following was written at the airport what seems like hours ago, and “saved”.  It is being published from the 8th floor waiting room at Northwestern University Hospital upon receiving word from Jason that a beautiful baby girl has arrived, and that all six and a half pounds of her are healthy and ready to be held by her grandfather.  Excuse me as I hit “Publish” and walk down the hall….

     “…I’m already there
     Take a look around
     I’m the sunshine in your hair
     I’m the shadow on the ground…”

Dear Shakespeare,

I write awaiting both my flight and your birth. Don’t worry about it though. You’ll have plenty of time to read this once you’re born.

First of all, this is the last time I’ll call you Shakespeare. It’s been a pseudonym since spring when your parents decided to keep your name a state secret. Ah, but you’ll have a real name soon enough.

Ask your father how he learned you were coming. (We were having breakfast downtown at Eggsperience when your Mom excused herself for a phone call. Bubbling over on her return to the table, she just couldn’t hold it in. Next thing we knew it was a group hug for three (plus).

Anyway, I can’t wait to see you and love you already! I’ve been thinking of this day for months now—but even more so recently—as you’ve made it clear you have your mother’s personality. God, you just can’t sit still! First you were due next Monday, which was fine. For nine months that date held, until…

A week or so ago you flipped over. You were fine (the doc said), but your mother—she was a cheleria. They set you up then for Special Delivery, (which was cool). You were about to learn the key to life: hurry up and wait.

Anticipating your birth, I booked passage to Midway for the Friday after Thanksgiving (today). This way, I figured, by my time of arrival, you’d not only be here, but you’d be home from the hospital.

You, of course, had other ideas. As such, last weekend you flipped again. “Right-side up,” they said, taking you off the waiting list. “Let nature take its course.”
“I’ll wait too,“ I told your parents. “I’ll come when Shakespeare does.”

Then Wednesday came—two days ago. I was sitting with the boys at Corky’s when the call came in.

“Guess what, Daddy?” asked MY baby. (I knew from her tone what was coming next)! “She flipped again.”

Truth is, Shakespeare, I never changed my flight. I’d kept it—just in case—and I’ll be on it moments from now. I saw Stace and Jace just weeks ago. I’m coming to see YOU.

I’ve been waiting too long to hold my baby’s baby…

I want to hand you a baseball, read you a book and watch you on the monitor. Did I mention your Cousin Max? I’ve watched him on the monitor. Wait ‘til you meet him! He lives in Great Neck, you see—and walks—but get this: he doesn’t have a New York accent.

I’m boarding soon, honey, so I’ll go for now. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later…when you arrive. As for me, Beautiful, I’m already there!  Love, Pa

     “…We may be a three hundred miles apart
     But I’ll be with you wherever you are—

     I’m the whisper in the wind
     And I’ll be there ’til the end
     Can you feel the love that we share?
     I’m already there….”

                  (Adapted, Myers, Baker, McDonald)

4 Responses to “I’M ALREADY THERE”

  1. Barbara says:

    Beautiful Bruce!

  2. Barbara says:

    Beautiful, Bruce.

  3. m says:

    We are all over the moon excited and we wish we were there!

  4. Jackie says:

    I love Lucy!

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