Someone is Missing

As I read John's blog last night about grandparents, I thought to myself that someone is missing. I've thought this several times during my pregnancy and a few times since Jack was born. That someone is my dad. 

For a wedding shower, my dad was asked to write about me. I didn't have a mother to attend the shower, and fathers aren't asked to attend showers. So, Dad wrote about me, and it was read at the shower. I want to share one paragraph of his musings in which he speaks about my future child.

"Ellie has proved herself to be a fine daughter, a sensitive sister, a loving aunt, and a good friend. There is no doubt in my mind that she will be a good teacher, a loving wife, and a wonderful mother. I don't know anyone who has given more to the people around her than Ellie has. I love you and pray that life will always be good to you and the new family you are starting. We are all pleased to be adding John to our family. Take good care of each other and continue as a couple to try to be the very best you can be."

Though my dad can't be here to celebrate Jack's birth, he left behind something that speaks to his excitement about seeing me as a mother. My dad began building furniture later in his life. His last major project was a cradle, which he gave to me in hopes I'd have a baby to use it one day. Now it rocks beside my bed at night, used when I am too tired to put Jack back in his crib. So, even though Dad can't be here to hold Jack in his arms, something he built with his hands is holding Jack.