Life With Sarg - Part IV

The day my daughter was born, part of Sarg's soul returned from the battlefield. Like with my sister, Sarg was able to reflect the love of an infant and return it in measure. He drew CadyBug up in his arms and held her to his face as I watched in amazement. I wondered what he looked like so close up; I wondered what his breath smelled like when it wasn't tainted with Budweiser and cigar smoke... what portion of his eyes twinkled... what it must feel like to bask in his radiant glow. He looked over at me and said, "You did good, kid." Four words could never make up for 21 yrs of wondering, but for a brief moment I knew what my sister had known all her life, what my mom never knew, what my daughter doesn't remember knowing.

Sixteen months later my son was born. CuddleBug refused to come out of his womb, so we had to go in and get him. At 12lbs, 10oz Cuddlebug immediately drew the admiration of the Sarg. While I was sleeping off the shock of a last-minute C-section, Sarg was stopping the carriage which was wheeling my boy to the nursery. "I'm calling the Coach and telling him we have a new linebacker!"

Where CadyBug softened Sarg's heart, CuddleBug turned it upside down. The two-kid combination prom queen/quarterback was enough to return another portion of Sarg's soul. Now almost entirely whole, he was no longer fully sullen. He was still distant, but not quite as much as we'd grown accustomed to. I began to realize my body defined our relationship; my biological father's DNA separated Sarg and I, but my body produced his first grandchildren. I realized these babies redefined the nature of our relationship. For whatever I had done wrong before, I had now done exactly two things right, and in those two things were the terms of my redemption.