All day I listened to the Blue Jay squawk and this is what they told me-
βItβs okay, youβre okay.
even when it feels like you arenβt, you are-
We’ve got you, Your army of Angels
your Chickadees and Blue Jays, your Mourning Doves.
We were there when you took your first gurgled breath, and the smart doctor placed you in your mother’s unable arms- her eyes got misty at the sight of you- no oneβs ever told you that, but they did, her eyeβs misted with emotion at the miracle of you and you should know that, every child should.
She held you quite naturally even as she didnβt quite know what to do or make of you, and she wasnβt angry, not that day- just tired and lonely and something else.
We werenβt there in the hospital room of course, but we were there, watching you wiggle and stretch into your new body, making all your newborn sounds, we were there and we shaped new sheet music with your name as the title that day.
We kept watch in Cannon Square too- God, that house! All those stairs and family history-itβs a wonder anyone survived it really. There was a porcelain white birdbath out back, you wonβt recall it, but we gathered there often to trade stories about your smile, about those ancient salty eyes of yours.
And now, before you even think to ask, βYesβ, we wore that windowsill out waiting for your mother to come back; to remember she had a baby at home and that babies canβt be left alone. We had a flock of trusty seagulls at the ready too- just a block away, on the firehouse eaves.
That entire afternoon we all waited, somber and ready to cause a fuss should you need us to, but honestly Button, you never fussed the way a baby like you should have fussed.β

author’s note
the name “Button” is borrowed from the poem “Letter to My Great, Great Grandchild” by: J.P. Grasser
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