Melissa enjoyed her third and final baby shower today with some of her old friends from childhood and we stuffed even more ruffly, frilly, pink things into cupboards and drawers in the room we have prepared for our soon-to-arrive daughter.
As Saturday's sun disappeared beyond the western eaves of the homes on Church Street, I finished unloading the car, and when Melissa was satisfied where everything had been placed, she turned, grabbed both of my hands, and asked, "Are you ready?"
There are times in my life when time has stood still for a precarious moment. Many have come since I married Melissa, and tonight another has come. At that moment, frilly things visible in the room beyond her shoulders, the dim glow of the nursery lights shining all around her, I answered her, "I'm ready."
At least as ready as a man can be, faced with what others have said will be the most life-changing experience one can have. Still, with all of the flashing unknown that approaches each hour, my heart says, "I'm ready."
I'm ready, Katelyn. Your daddy awaits the moment when he can look into your eyes and see the love that has brought you into this world reflected back at him, bringing tears to his own eyes. For all of the scary days, the joyful days, the frustrating days, the promising days, the days looking on into eternity, I am ready.