A Picture for September 2nd

Today is my youngest brother's birthday. Isaac Jacob was born on my first day of college, and he lived just long enough for my mother to hold him and see him alive. I know that Mama has told me all of this before, but today I find myself wondering what her due date was, how early he was born. I remember going over to Gabrielle's apartment that night and crying with her. Mama had lost a lot of blood, and for the first time, I found myself completely shaken by the thought that my mother could have died. I had never considered that possibility before. Last night, Mama wondered aloud in her family letter what Isaac would have looked like. Would he be as tall as Abraham? Would he have glasses like Christian? Would he have those bright blue eyes of Benjamin? Would he have cowlicks in his hair like Brigham? I can almost visualize the picture of a tall, almost-high-school-senior boy holding his chubby nephew at the family reunion over the summer.