A Dream - A Lesson - A Life

I awoke to the sound of a baby screaming. I leapt up out of bed fearing what it could mean. She needed to be changed, she needed to be fed. These were the two likeliest possibilities, but my mind already raced with many more horrible scenarios, most of which were to implausible to take hold. It was then that she kicked me. Looking over in surprise, I just stared for a moment at the round belly that held within it my child, the one who had kicked me.

In the air I heard laughter. Not malicious or unfriendly. Honest, amused laughter. "No she hasn't been born yet. But it will be soon." The voice whispers on the breeze that floats through the window. "Come outside. It is time to talk."

I get up and throw on my robe, rolling a cigarette and stepping out onto the balcony. Even as I light it, the laughter comes again as the breeze dances around me. Again she is not mocking, she simply asked, "Why do you fear this so?"

This question forces me to laugh, but not with the same good humor. "What do I fear? Where to begin?"

I stare out at the parking lot and the thoughts come rolling out one on top of another. I don't bother speaking as these images flood out. All of the responsibilities, all of the teaching, all of the care that was necessary. I look up at the moon and shake my head.

"How could you let it come to pass that I be a parent. That I be responsible for the upbringing of a child. Does this make sense to you?"

"Of course it makes sense to me." The answer comes back. Less amused now, more motherly. "More importantly, I know what you fear most."

"What would that be?"

I can feel her smile, as if the air around her carries it. "You forget I was a mother long before you were born."

"Ahh, but you weren't a father." I argue.

Again she laughs, but she cuts it off abruptly, suddenly serious. "Lessons unlearned. That is what you called your story isn't it?" I just nodded. "You fear that if you can't join the dance, that you have no business molding someone else, trying to teach them to."

"I have hardly stood up as a shining example of how to do right with your life." I pointed out, annoyed again at her patronizing tone, as I too frequently have been in the past. "Lessons unlearned are lessons I can't pass on."

"You silly man." She said, the humor coming back into her voice. "You think I don't know that you haven't learned the important lessons yet? Why else would I send Emily to teach you?"