Monday, November 5, 2018

Sky: Baby

The other day, Jane and I were at the University of Vermont (UVM) as guest speakers for a class on Aging and Human Development. I was tickled to find out that the students’ assignment was to read the blog …Yes….THIS Blog …and create some questions for us.

The class was a seminar, small and intimate, with 8 undergraduate students. Perfect conditions for the emotional spillage that was to come..… It started when a young woman asked about the picture of the baby with a poem I had written called Soothing:

With my hands, I fashion
my own cradle
For a hurting brain.

I included the photo simply because it was too powerful NOT to include it. Hands tenderly holding the ridiculously vulnerable newborn, all wrinkly skin and undeveloped brain.

The hands take the very familiar protective position that I find myself in when the world threatens to overwhelm. I can’t take my eyes off this baby. There’s some meaning here that I’m almost, but not quite, getting. Fortunately, Jane is running the class at this point, so I don’t need to worry about my lapse, unless I take too long to return.

And then, suddenly, I get it. And I’m back. I’m mesmerized by this baby because…she is MY baby! Her brain still just partially developed, she is content (for a moment) to turn her gaze fully to mine and soak up her brand new world through my eyes.

Somehow, we were made for each other, though we are both so new to our worlds…vulnerable, open and not real smart yet.

Wow!!! What next?


  1. Very powerful stuff. Thank you.

    I want to title that photograph "Sky Baby"

  2. When my mother had Alzheimer's, there came a time when I couldn't really be sure she knew who I was. Nonetheless, she lit up when she saw me. She had a depth of feeling like you have with this baby. There is something very special there, whether or not you can articulate why. That is very real, and I think it's kind of nice to know that that special feeling can last way beyond the ability to articulate why.

    Sky, thanks for sharing. You never cease to amaze me.