Saturday, October 23, 2010

"Daddy we named him Zachary John." "Everything's done?"

Zach's 16 birthday was yesterday. It was not so sweet, but it is one he will remember for the rest of his life. He broke his ankle this week and that has colored everything around his birthday. He did get the phone he wanted, and he got the universal gift that I think teenagers of every generation enjoy - cash. Overall, he's taking it pretty well, much better than what I thought he would. But, that just shows how much he has matured in the last year.

As I watch him to continue to grow and mature, I cannot help but notice small things about him that make me wonder, "Where in the world did that come from?" "Is that like me, or is that like his Dad?" "Or from some other blood relative?"

Well, it's easy enough to ask Alphie about his past. He was surrounded by all of his blood relatives. For me ... Zach is my first blood. I can't help but wonder what from my unknown background may pop out. Not thinking anything sinister, necessarily. (Although I have been told I had true outlaw blood relatives, I think I'm the one more likely to test those waters. Just kidding. Sort of.) No, it's just simple things that I may never know when they rear up. It's a very strange feeling and difficult to describe to those (which means most people) who have no idea what it's like to not know your relatives' history.

But back to Zach's birth. He had great timing. We had just published our bi-weekly magazine, so there was no weekend work ahead of us. We'd worried he might come on deadline weekend, and that would not have been such a great thing, especially for Alphie. But, no, Zach waited, showed his patience even while in womb. It had just turned midnight on the 22nd of October and we were watching a rerun of Law & Order. I was laid out on our 60's wrap around couch like a beached whale, uncomfortable no matter what position I tried.

Suddenly, I felt it. The gush of water that makes you wonder if you just pe'ed all over yourself before you realize that the time has come. The dam broke and the water came flooding, and flooding, and flooding down. Seventeen hours later, our boy had arrived.

As soon as I had fed myself and given myself time to marvel holding my first blood relative in my arms, I called my dad in Texas to let him know his grandson was here and that we had named him Zachary John. John being my dad's first name. A lot hard of hearing, my dad never really liked talking on the phone too much, but this was one phone call he wanted to take without his wife translating for him.

"Daddy, we named him Zachary John."

"Everything's done?" my dad replied, proving he had not understood a word I said.

"Yes, Daddy, everything's done? And it's all good."

"Well good, I'm happy."

Zach is going by John these days, says it makes him feel closer to his grandfather who left this earth four years ago. Zach believes he's still able to talk with his grandfather, particularly in his dreams. I so hope it is true. And as long as we believe, then it shall be.

The older John would be very proud of the younger John. Happy Birthday, Zach ... um I mean John. I love you more than you will probably ever know.

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