He was holding the tiny baby, swaying back and forth. Ever so slowly, cradling her in his arms. Like he was rocking the baby, or trying to calm her cries. The room, though, was too quiet. She had never cried. She came out perfect - dark hair, dark eyes, 10 tiny fingers and toes. But she came out silent and limp. The quiet was broken only by the occasional shudder of her mother as she tried to hold in her tears.
Her husband was not with her. He was, and is, across the sea, fighting to bring peace in a land that has known war. Her family was right there with her, and it was her father I watched slowly rock this tiny, silent baby. Did he even know he was moving? Was it just a reflex, this slow sway?
There are many things I do not understand.
This is one more to add to the list.