Marin's "pediatrician in the sky"....

This is a picture of my mom and her brother, my Uncle Frank. Today is the one year anniversary of his death. A death that came much too soon. My Uncle Frank was a wonderfully kind and loving man. He loved people, parties and his garden. He had the very best laugh of anyone I ever knew, and he remembered every thing about everyone he ever met. But perhaps what he will most be remembered for, is his love of children. My Uncle was a very well known, very trusted pediatrician. And any new parent that has ever taken their tiny baby in for their 4 day old visit, knows how valuable that is.

One of my favorite memories of my Uncle was when I was about 5 years old. It was Christmas Eve at my Grandma Meyer's house. I had all of the fascination and adoration of Santa as any young child my age. After dinner, my Uncle Frank stood by the window and said, "Oh my goodness! Johanna! I just saw Santa and his sleigh!" I ran to the window, he pulled a chair over for me to climb, and we peered out the window at the northern star which I was convinced was Santa's sleigh. A few years later, when there were rumors that Santa didn't exist, I thought to myself, "But I saw him!"

I found out that I was pregnant with Marin two days after my Uncle Frank died. Last year, I knelt down beside my Uncle at his wake and whispered to him what Jason and I hadn't yet told any of our other family members. "I'm pregnant Uncle Frank. Please watch over this baby." I couldn't imagine how I was going to make it through this new and scary time in my life without being able to ask him his advice. There was one particular time in my pregnancy when we had a scare, and I thought about my Uncle. I remembered that he was going to keep us safe. And indeed he did.

Shortly after Marin was born, my Aunt referred to him as Marin's "pediatrician in the sky". I just loved that. This morning I told Marin about her Great Uncle Frank. I told her how much he would have loved meeting her. He would have scooped her right up and just loved every single inch of her. Every night before we go to bed I say the Guardian Angel Prayer to Marin. Perhaps he is listening as I do.

As much as I would have loved for my Uncle to have met Marin; for him to put his stethoscope up to her little chest and reassure me that everything is as it should be, it is an honor to have Marin's pediatrician in the sky watching over us. After all, how many kids can say they have an angel in their family? Marin can.