What do you do when it is your anniversary and you have a 2 week old at home? Write a parody of the Gettysburg Address, of course! This was part of my anniversary gift to my lovely wife…
Zero score and twelve years ago, my father-in-law brought forth from his Springfield house a new bride, received by my hand, and dedicated to the proposition that two people could be united by love in marriage.
Now we are engaged in a great parenting struggle, testing whether this household, or any household that has so conceived, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of caring for a newborn. We have come to appreciate that bed, as a resting place for those who gave their time and energy to feeding so that newborn might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot appreciate, we cannot recreate, we cannot count sheep to eight in that restful bed. The sweet little newborn, crying and hungry, who struggled here, have caused us a cessation of rest, far above our poor power to sleep. Our little babe will little note, nor long remember our sleeplessness now, but she will never forget the comfort and security of our care. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which parents for generations have fought here so nobly before us. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us – that from this child well-fed we take increased devotion to that cause for which we have forfeited our last measure of restfulness – that we here highly resolve that the bed shall not have been empty in vain – that this household, under God, shall have no dearth of nearness and love – and that warm and tender environment of the family, by the family, for the family, shall not perish from the earth.