Christopher Hudson walked into his small two bedroom home two days late.
He had tried hard to make it on time but being in the U.S. Marines never guarantees anyone a trip home on time … or in too many cases, a trip home at all. Christopher considered himself lucky and he hoped that his wife, Carole would just ignore his tardiness and be happy to see him. After all, they haven't seen each other in nine months.
He set his duffle bag down on the floor in the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible. Christopher was a big man and he was often (and fondly) described as a bull in a china shop. Even he knew that you don't wake a sleeping baby though and judging by the stillness of the house, the baby must be asleep. He had no idea how much newborns slept but the house was quiet and he didn't want to disrupt it. He hung up his jacket on the hook by the kitchen and sat on the stairs to unlace his heavy boots.
"Chris?" Carole's voice sounded surprised and laced with uncertainty but then it turned into a happy sound as she tried to keep her voice down. "Oh my God, honey you're home. You made it." Carole carefully but swiftly descended the stairs and hugged him from behind, burying her face in his neck. "You're late but you're here. I'm so happy you're here."
Christopher breathed a sigh of relief. She was happy to see him, of course she was.
Carole was a God-send. He had known that the day he asked her out on their first date all those years ago. Throughout their marriage she continued to be, not only an angel sent from above but, the backbone of their family. Even now, after having gone through labour and child birth practically alone, she had every reason to be angry with him - but she wasn't. She wasn't mad that he had missed the birth of their first son and although Christopher already knew it, Carole's outlook just cemented the fact that she was one in a million. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here sooner, babe." He turned his face slightly and kissed her cheek. "How are you feeling?"
"Oh, I'm fine but never mind me," Carole said. "Come on. Come meet him. He's so beautiful."
Christopher tugged his boots off quickly, slid his hands around Carole's waist and followed her up the stairs and into the nursery. The walls were covered in cute cowboy-themed wallpaper. The carpet was a shaggy brown and the crib was oak with baby blue linens. For now though, the crib sat empty. His newborn son was snuggled in a bassinette in the corner fully asleep on his stomach.
"He just fed," Carole whispered. "And so far these past two days he's been a good sleeper. He drifted off almost immediately after I burped him."
Christopher approached the bassinette carefully, like even his breathing would wake him up. He looked at his sleeping son and suddenly emotion overtook him. "He's so beautiful, Carole. Oh, we made such a perfect boy."
"We did," Carole said in a giddy voice, as a tear rolled down her cheek. Her arms drew her husband in. and they stood there for quite a while, simply staring at their swaddled pride and joy.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't here, babe. I will never forgive myself for not being here the day he was born. He's so precious and so … tiny."
"Don't worry about that. I'm used to your job and I knew what I was getting into the day I married you." It was true. She had known that her then fiancé wanted to become a Marine and she also knew what that could entail. But knowing doesn't always mean understanding – it ended up being hard with him being away so much, but she knew that he loved her and for now that was enough. She certainly wasn't going to dwell on it now – not with such a perfect and precious boy to celebrate. "I'm just happy that you're here now. How long are you staying?"
"Just three days," Christopher lamented.
"Well, let's make the most of those days," Carole gave him her most genuine and loving smiles. If she was bothered by her husband's constant and long absences, Christopher never suspected it. She leaned into him then and whispered, "I know he looks tiny but he's actually big for a newborn. Ten pounds, eleven ounces," Carole grimaced.
"Do you still want to name him Finn," Christopher asked.
"Yes. Finnegan Christopher Hudson."
"It's perfect," he said. "Oh. I have something for him Carole. It's in my bag. I'll be right back."
After flying down and back up the stairs as quickly and as quietly as he could, Christopher was once again back at his son's side, watching him sleep.
"I'm going to go have a bath," Carole whispered. She more wanted to give her husband some time alone with Finn than get herself clean. "When I'm done we can maybe have some dinner before he wakes again for his evening feeding."
"Sounds good, babe," Christopher said without taking his eyes off of Finn.
Once he heard the water running in the bathroom he kneeled down beside the bassinette. His voice was very soft and a bit watery. "Hello, son," he whispered and took in a sharp breath at how that sounded.
Son.
"I'm so happy you're finally here and I know I wasn't here for your birth and I can't promise I'll be here every day because … well, my job keeps me away when I don't want to be but I promise you son, I will be here as much as I can," he paused and clutched as his heart because he was overwhelmed with emotion. He never expected to feel like this but he just closed his eyes and let the feeling course through him. In that moment he knew that leaving in three days would be the hardest thing he would ever have to do in his life. "I will do anything possible to make sure you have a good life, Finn. You deserve everything and I love you."
Christopher drummed up the courage to stroke Finn's little fist with the pad of his finger as he watched him sleep. He realized he could watch him sleep forever. Carole's pregnancy news had been unexpected. They had wanted to wait until Christopher could be home more but life always has a way of throwing a curve ball. After the initial shock, both he and Carole had been so happy and excited to become parents. And now that Christopher was meeting his son for the first time he didn't know how he ever lived a day of his life without him.
Suddenly, as Christopher was stroking, Finn opened his little fist as he snuffled and yawned in slumber. Christopher lifted his gift and draped it over his sleeping son, the corner of it falling over the baby's hand. Finn immediately grasped it in his fist and held it.
The blanket was made of cotton, was the lightest mint green in colour, and just big enough for it to cover the newborn. It had a quilted pattern and matching satin edging.
As Christopher watched his son grasp the blanket and nuzzle into it he had no idea how absolutely treasured that blanket would become. He wouldn't know that Finn would carry it around well past his first, fifth, and tenth birthdays. He wouldn't know that as an adolescent – and even as a teenager - Finn would cry into that blanket when missing him became too much to bear. He would never know that one day, long after he was gone, Finn would give the blanket to his (as far as Finn knew) own unborn child.
There would be many things that Christopher would never get to know but in that moment he knew one thing – the world was a better place now that Finn was in it.