February 26 – “Happy birthday, Junior”

Yes, he really is a junior.  If you know him, all you have ever heard in an introduction is “Kel,” but that’s not his fault.  It’s not as if he tried to get as far away from his given name as he could because he hated that it sounded like a girl’s name or something.  As far as I know, he likes his name just fine.  It’s a grand Irish name, my mother’s maiden name, and thus the surname of a fine Irish family.  When he was born Chris was adamant that he would not be called by any nickname, but I must confess … I was too lazy to abide by her demand.  I called him Kel right off, and it stuck.  Come on … I had to have some way of knowing if I was talking to him or to myself, didn’t I? 

Speaking of his birth, I don’t remember a lot about when he was born, but I do recall that I was supposed to be playing in a church basketball tournament.  The tournament started the night before, a Friday.  We did pretty well, I guess, but we had several games scheduled for the next day, Saturday.  We came home, and if I remember correctly a few of the guys from the team came over as well.  We probably had some nachos or something.  Gotta make sure the weekend athletes eat well.  When everyone finally left, I remember finally getting a great “before” picture of Chris.  It was perfect.  She was even turned to the side so you could really see her extended midsection. 

That’s where things get kind of fuzzy for me.  I don’t think she smacked me that hard when she realized I had taken the picture, but that could have been the problem.  I think maybe the excitement and weariness all just caught up with me and I was on autopilot.  I have no recollection at all of being in the delivery room, but I know I was there.  It was a big deal back then to be allowed in.  I had to promise not to move from my mark.  As far as I know, I was a good little boy and obeyed to the letter.  I do remember after he was born and it being my responsibility to go out to the waiting room and tell everyone whether it was a boy or girl.  None of that finding out ahead of time back in the day, you know.  I ran into my Dad first, and I have always regretted not stopping right then and letting him in on the secret before everyone else.  I guess I figured I had to be politically correct or something and tell everyone at the same time.  Not that he expected special favors or anything.  All he said was, “What do we got?”  He was always a man of few words.  I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him the next few steps into the waiting room to make the announcement.  Looking back I just think it would have been kind of special to have that kind of a moment with him.  And that’s where the specific memories of the event end. 

The next thing I remember was that I had the check to pay for our team’s entry in the tournament in my pocket.  I found out later that we were almost kicked out for non-payment.  They cut us some slack, though, when they heard about the new baby.  I offered to leave the hospital and go play in our last game, but for some reason Chris frowned upon that option.  Mom did more than frown.  She read the Oralee riot act, and said if I left she would personally haunt me for the rest of my days.  It’s amazing the things you can and can’t remember, isn’t it?   Well, Kel, now you have the story of how you caused me to miss a basketball tournament.  Do you feel guilty yet?  Happy birthday, Son.  I love you.

Proverbs 10:1 says, “A wise son brings joy to his father, but a foolish son grief to his mother.”

Father, thank you for my first born son.  Direct him in your paths.  Grow him into a wise man.  Amen.