On an overcast December morning, my mother gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.

Bob,

my mother addressed my father.

There is something that the doctor has just told me about Gabriel.

Dad sat down in a chair next to the hospital bed where my mother was lying. He was a steady man. But news delivered like that, and concerning his new baby could never be easy to take when standing.

He has a strong heart.

She pauses.

She waits for Dad’s response. But he does not know what to respond to.

Gabriel has Down’s syndrome.

~

“Daddy, will you love me?” Gabriel is ten years older.

A vision, perhaps.

My Dad has no answer.

~

My heart is breaking, Carol.

My dad replies to my mom in that white,

typical,

normal,

sterile

hospital

recovery

room.

~

“I have loved and treasured Gabriel from that moment on.”