With has first birthday celebrations winding down around here, I’ve been thinking a lot about the early days of Drew. He was the sweetest little newborn, content and quiet and sleepy all of the time. In the evening, he’d get fussy though. He was gassy or over tired or maybe he was just tired of being messed with all day long, but evenings were his grumpy time. i would try everything to get him happy, but sometimes he just wanted to fuss, so fuss he did, and I listened even though I felt helpless.
But most nights, I could get him comfortable. We’d rock in the almost-darkness of our bedroom, and I’d sing. I don’t know many lullabies, so I’d sing what came to mind, and it was always Hey, Jude by The Beatles, except I sang Hey, Drew.
Over and over again…….
Hey, Drew, don’t be afraid.
You were made to go out and get her.
The minute you let her under your skin,
Then you begin to make it better.
He’d look up and just watch my lips move, transfixed on them and usually trying to grab at them. And eventually, he’d dose off. I would hold him for as long as I could before I had to get back to reality, but I’d always lie him down with Hey, Drew still on my mind.
So when I went to put his pictures together from the last year, the music had to be Hey, Jude. My baby boy’s lullaby. I played the video through a few minutes ago with Drew and Lily by my side, and Lily just started sobbing.
"What’s wrong, Lil?"
"It’s just the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard."
I think so too.