Francesca's Baby

It was a sultry summer evening in early August 1983.  I'd just driven back from a residency in Montpelier and was on my way to watch Pete (whom I'd been dating for about a year) play soccer.  I remember this evening because I've attached it to having gotten the news that my best friend, JoAnn, had just had her baby.  (It is interesting to look back on this and wonder how I got the news?  There were no cell phones, no emails, no message machines then.  Maybe it was by carrier pigeon?  Osmosis?  Well, somehow, I knew.)  Anna Francesca LaVigna was born on August 4, 1983.  And she changed my life.

I was 33 years old.  From my twenties on, I'd convinced myself that I never wanted children.  Then JoAnn became pregnant, and I had to rethink everything.  Not only was JoAnn my best friend at the time, she was also my hero.  I admired everything about her, I emulated her mannerisms, I stole vocabulary words from her, I absolutely adored her.  If she was going to have children, maybe I needed to reconsider my position.

Two years and one month later, I was a parent myself.

JoAnn and I spent our "mommy years" on the phone a lot.  We lived an hour apart, but the demands of taking care of babies and toddlers limited our face-to-face time.  Our phone conversations were therapy sessions for the most part.  Between the two of us, we raised five babies, and I can tell you today that they all turned out quite well.

JoAnn died 14 years ago.  Francesca was 16 at the time.  And yesterday, having just turned 31, Francesca gave birth to a baby boy!  The pictures she sent me this morning evoked smiles and tears and something I cannot even articulate.  It's something about life and death and hope and sorrow and fate and injustice.  It's something about god and karma and the very random nature of this existence.  But it's also something about love.

I am in love with this baby I have not even met yet, and I am in love with the guardian angel watching over him.