Holding a new-born baby is magic – especially your first! I was reminded of that recently as Hennie and I have been California getting acquainted with Rachel – our newest grandchild and the latest addition to our clan.
It took me back to that day when I held our very first child. Malcolm was born in the midst of very troubled and quite traumatic times as we left Laos amidst a communist takeover back in May 1975.
I had driven all day to get to the remote hospital in central Thailand, dodging slow-moving – and un-lit – ox-carts in the darkness of the last 50 kilometers or so (unknown to me that Malcolm had already arrived!).
And then to hold him – my own kith and kin! Where had he come from? Where was he before? Where would he have been if Hennie and I had never met…? All sorts of profound questions flooded my mind as the sheer magic of the occasion sunk in. It was surreal!
Of course subsequent births also awed me – as any new parent – but the first was just bit extra special because for the first time of my life I was a dad!