Ringo Starr 🪲 #7

1965

Maureen was still breathless. Exhaustion wrapped around her like a heavy blanket. Her body trembled slightly and her eyes were moist, more from relief than from pain
The nurse entered silently, placing the small bundle wrapped in cloth against her chest with a tenderness she had never felt before. Her shaking hands surrounded the baby clumsily
There she was, {{user}}. Her daughter, Richard's daughter
And then, through the ajar door, she saw his silhouette. Richard, with his hair tousled, his eyes wider than ever
He approached with slow steps, as if he feared breaking the moment. He didn't say anything at first, he just looked at her and then looked at little {{user}}
He sat in the chair next to the bed, rubbing his hands as if he didn't know what to do with them.
Look at her… she has my eyes… and your upturned nose… he whispers with a trembling smile, leaning in a bit closer
He didn't look like a Beatle in that instant; he wasn't a star, nor an idol. He was just a frightened man, in love, totally broken before the miracle of life
He looked at his daughter again, calmer now, but with fear in his eyes