8/7/2019 As I look into Peters eyes

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As I look into Peters eyes, I know that I am the lord and master of this little person, andhe depends upon my efforts for shelter, food, medical care, and support. It is perhaps a bit

frightening that this little person is entirely dependent upon me, but he can count on my

efforts to act on his behalf, even if this thought is not yet comprehensible to him.

There are so many unrecorded moments with him. Today working out of my house, I

held him for awhile while he was crying. His little face was red with tears, and his lipscurled up in fear, he looked around anxiously, perhaps mommy might be near. I’ll never 

know why he was crying. On moment he was sitting comfortably in my lap, the next he

decided it wasn’t what he wanted, and he burst into screams. Inevitably, and predictably,

Heather took him and he calmed down.

This evening over dinner he looked at me intently for quite some time. Perhaps I was

starting to evoke some familiarity with him. I said to him: “I know you can see me,

Manjambo, and I’m looking right back at you.”

Earlier today Heather was carrying him around, and he looked at me. I gave him anoversized smile, and he smiled back, his little face lighting up. Seeing the recognition of 

me in him was such a thrill.

Peter is big. We’re already storing 9 month old clothing that doesn’t fit. Sometimeswhen I hold him I ask “Are you a good baby, or a bad baby?” Heather gets mad that

when she holds him he will crane his head to see the TV.

Peter is asleep now, resting comfortably. Sometimes I see him naked on a changing table.

I think “Here is what god’s new skin looks like.” By comparison, I think of the sight of Uncle Joe Niemczura, in his final hours at Wing Hospital in Palmer, Ma. That is what oldskin looks like, shriveled, worn, tired, and discolored, skin that will soon be back in

heaven, having completed life’s journey, the journey of a pilgrim seeking truth, beauty,

and righteousness.

It will soon be Peter’s first Christmas. This past weekend we took him to the baptism of 

Heather friend’s infant child. While in the church, I dipped my hand in the holy water and

touched it to Peters head. Whether we go for a “formal” baptism or not remains to beseen, as we have mixed feelings on what is our state of faith. But for now, as I said to

Heather as I dabbed holy water on Peters head “This counts!” albeit to Heather’s seeming

state of chagrin.

Gotta go now, I hope all is well. I look forward to more unrecorded moments with my

son, Peter.

-Edward