"Two hearts are better than one. Three. Four...." (Reading time 0:44)

Sitting here at the Medford, Oregon airport, 5:46 A.M. Leaving behind memories wrapped in soft cotton memories of a prematurely born little man, just in time. Utah Cohen Sewing. My second grandson. Four days. Many eyes watching. Many hands nurturing. Many hearts caring.

As a parent it humbles your steps when meeting yourself coming down the graveled road in the opposite direction. That was the sense of movement during the details of my four-day visit:

• The delicate child Victoria cradled against her breast; the delicate child held against her mother’s breast so many years before.
• The delicate child Rick cradled against his chest; the delicate child held against her father’s chest so many years before.
• The tiny hand wrapped around Victoria’s finger for assurance; the tiny hand wrapped around her mother’s finger for assurance so many years before.
• The tiny hand wrapped around Rick’s finger for protection; the tiny hand wrapped around her father’s finger for protection so many years before.

Sitting here at 10:42 A.M. descending from over the Rocky Mountains into Denver, coming in for a landing on my way home. Remembering the details of my days at the foot of the mountain.

The Child’s meekness.

The Mother’s breast.

The Father’s hand.

God was in the details, so many years ago.

Just in time.

For emphasis – (b)

Note: Utah is still in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. When I left last night he was 5 pounds...and growing. He is getting stronger every day. He is getting more and more every day. Our family thanks you for being in the loving details.