The first one is special — as if we needed any reminding

By Charlie Sacchetti
As I was going through some old papers today, I saw a document that immediately took me back to a very special time in my life. It was a Certificate of Copyright Registration that I obtained back in 1981. Back then, I never anticipated becoming an author and certainly had no idea that a thing called the internet would emerge and allow me to post my essays on a regular basis. I was just a new Dad who wanted to write something that my first-born child, our little girl, would be able to look at some day with fondness and feel the love. I thought it would be neat to get it copyrighted, so I did.
Looking back, almost 40 years ago, I remember a lot of what it’s like when two young people are expecting the arrival of their first child. In my case, I’d probably use the phrase “controlled terror.” The thought of another mouth to feed and the responsibility of protecting and providing, seemed quite intimidating for someone who chose to view life in a lighthearted manner. I was thrilled to have the baby on the way but every now and then the enormity of the arrival would make me come back to earth.
Back in 1979, I carried a beeper for my job. I was on call around the clock, so I took this pager home with me each evening. It just beeped. There was no voice capability. When it beeped, I called a predetermined number. I had the bright idea of giving my wife, Luann, a special way of contacting me, in case she needed me. It was only to be used if she
was ready to deliver. If I heard it, the game plan would be that I would drop everything, race home and take her to the hospital. The baby was due around June 19. I used to play a lot of tennis in those days and it was on Memorial Day, May 30, as I was about to hit
a backhand, I heard it … Beep! Beep! Beep!
There were no cell phones in those days, so I had to assume the baby was about to join us. As I drove, like a maniac, to get to our home in Drexel Hill, about 8 miles away, I came to West Chester Pike and drove right into the middle of a parade, nearly running into a frightened tuba player. I leaped from the car, screaming to a cop that my wife was having a baby and I had to get home. He stopped the whole parade and allowed me to cross the highway, wishing me good luck as I thanked him between hyper-ventilations. When I ran into the house, I saw my lovely, very pregnant wife running the vacuum cleaner at the top of the stairs. When she asked me why I was home so early, I realized that I was the victim of a malfunctioning beeper. We both laughed. Happily, Luann did present me with our daughter, Rosanne, on June 26. She arrived about a week late but it was a very special day for another reason. It happened to be my 32nd birthday. She is by far the best birthday present I have ever received. By the way, her delivery was made with no help from the infamous beeper. We were home together when the contractions got to the critical stage.
It’s funny how you remember things that only take a second or two to occur. For me, I’ll never forget the look on baby Rosie’s face as she tasted spaghetti and her mother’s gravy for the first time. She was just 5 months old as her eyes widened and lit up as if to say, “Where’s the meatballs”? I suppose being born on your Dad’s birthday somehow makes you destined to be at least a little like your father. That’s certainly the case here since Rosie and I share a penchant for good times, good friends, good Italian food and of course, the Phillies.
So, after I saw that copyright document, I decided to take another look at the poem I wrote back in 1981. I had it done by a calligrapher and professionally framed for posterity. It had been quite a while, years even, since I had read the poem. I wondered if doing so would still stir those wonderful feelings as it always had done in the past.
It did. IAH

Charlie Sacchetti is the author of two books, “It’s All Good: Times and Events I’d Never Want to Change,” and “Knowing He’s There: True Stories of God’s Subtle Yet Unmistakable Touch.” Contact him at worthwhilewords21@gmail.com

FOR ROSANNE

The beauty of her being is there for us to hold.
Her smile as she awakens, both innocent and bold.
She’ll steal your heart but give you hers in such a special way.
And she knows we love her more with every passing day.

Her mother’s hair, her father’s eyes, His special recipe.
The look upon her frowning face when tears replace the glee.
A giggle here, a giggle there, then on your lap she’ll lay.
And she knows we love her more with every passing day.

Oh when she’s grown, and has her own, she’ll come to realize,
That she feels then as we do now, there are the binding ties.
Then one night with hand held tight she’ll smile and then she’ll say
“Child of mine I love you more with every passing day.”

Daddy 6-21-81