Yesterday brought a miracle, my new nephew H.
My friends have been trying to have a baby for years. There are no options, natural or scientific, that they did not explore.
And yesterday at 10:05 a.m., the world got a little bigger and a whole lot cuter.
Having a baby is the ultimate act of faith. You somehow trust the universe will take care of him, of you, of your family for the rest of your lives.
My faith is not that big. I wish it were. All I have to do is look at the news and see the peaceful protest for the violent death of Corey Jones, see another local cop who shot a dog who was waiting in an open car for his owner to take him to the vet, see the girl raped on a cop car in mah ‘hood and he got off Scot-free, and see the funeral of a high school friend’s nephew … and it’s not a world i want to be in, let alone put any kind of faith into.
But if anyone can handle raising a good child in a messed-up world, my friends can. And I’ll do everything I can to help because I believe in them.
I wonder if the two girls upstairs were as wanted as H. I’d bet not. I imagine these two twits upstairs just did their jungle boogie after a fight and bam, shit out kids. Just what the world needs, for that demon spawn to perpetuate. Sigh.
It’s a long shot to hope they will turn out well. But the universe has a funny way of giving me the finger. They may not act civilized at their next house. But eventually they will grow up and move out on their own. And one day, I won’t even remember that I ever knew them because I’ll be hanging by the pool with people I actually want to be around.
And the act of faith it’s taking to think that way may be the biggest one I’ve achieved in years.