That's What I Think

Yesterday I got to spend my first bit of quality time with Peanut. Landon has been at Texas Children's Hospital for three weeks. Though no one said it, there were times when we thought we might lose the guy to infections and other maladies that seemed to attack him every day. But despite the pounding, at just 8 lbs. this little fighter appears to be beating the baddies and making a comeback on his own terms. All but one of the tubes that used protrude here and there across his body have been removed; the one remaining is for his powerful antibiotics. He is drinking milk from a tiny bottle and, for the most part, keeping it down. There is even talk of taking him off the critical list and moving him to better digs with a view and a TV. I had my first chance to photograph Peanut yesterday. I hadn't photographed a newborn baby in more than 20 years, but it all came back in a flash . . . literally. I popped shot after shot of Landon as he fought off sleep, yawning, his eyes rolling back under the lids. I remember the same scenario with my own two boys when we were all much younger. There is something special about capturing this time and place with a camera, stealing it away and holding on to it as if the ritual might somehow keep them small and innocent. As I watched my grandson frown, grin and blow miniature bubbles through his sleeping lips, I wondered what he must be dreaming. I'd like to think that the frowns were nothing more than flashback memories of his recent bouts with needles and tubes. The grins had to be comforting thoughts of being cradled in his mother's gentle grasp. And the bubbles? Well, I think the bubbles are Peanut's first attempt at making a raspberry sound and putting everyone on notice that he is going to beat the odds and come home soon. At least, that's what I think.