No Matter What the Language, Love Shines Through

I was sitting on the couch a few moments ago, watching a half-naked Bonnie dancing to Lady Gaga -- truly a glorious sight to behold -- when movement outside caught my eye, Always eager to catch the piece of shit neighbor who is letting his/her damn dog use our lawn as a toilet, I turned around to see what was going on.

Seeing it wasn't anyone I needed to punch in the face, I was ready to turn back to the baby burlesque show when I noticed that it was a man pushing a travel system. A Dad pushing his kid without Mommy is a rare enough sight around here but what struck me was how he was pushing with one hand and gesturing with the other. I was stumped until I realized that it was the hearing impaired man from down the street. Is he deaf? Mute? Deaf-mute? I have no idea, this isn't a neighborhood where people know much about each other. I know that he and his wife are hearing-impaired, that they have worked hard to improve their house since moving here and that she was pregnant. That sums up what I know about them and it's more than I know about most of the people up and down the block.

So I realized it was him and that he wasn't just flapping his hands around for whatever reason, he was actually signing. Talking to his brand new baby the only way he could even though the baby had no idea what he was doing or what it meant. Even though the baby couldn't actually see what he was doing since it is still so newborn.

He was speaking with his baby, maybe telling it something profound like how much he loves it already or something as mundane as how those jokers with the blue minivan really need to have the lawn service come more than twice a month. (Yes, that would be us.) If he was actually speaking, I couldn't hear it and I don't know sign language but what he was saying doesn't matter anyway. It's that he was saying it at all. I could see the love for his child all over his face and in the movement of his hand.

It was so beautiful and it felt so special that I had to turn away like I was intruding on a private moment. Instead of spying further on the tableau on my sidewalk, I grabbed my tiny dancer and told her with my words and my kisses that I love her so much, now and always.

Thank you, new-father-neighbor-whom-I've-never-met, for reminding me how amazing it is to be a new parent. With my first baby turning seven next week, it seems so long since I was in your shoes. I would tell you that the love you carry today only gets bigger and stronger, something you wouldn't believe is possible, but it's better to find out for yourself. There are no words -- with a mouth or with hands -- to come close to explaining the wonder of it anyway.