Several months ago, I remember that it was the night before Easter in fact, my husband and I attended a dinner for the sail boat club his family has been sailing with for 40 years or so. This annual dinner is an awards banquet, but mostly just a time to catch up and see the sailing buddies you haven’t seen for several months.
One of the couples I look forward to seeing each year is a couple of empty-nesters named Mr. and Mrs. Goff. They have a daughter about my age and another a few years younger, and they are just really nice people. Mr. Goff even attended the small college I went to (thirty years before I did). After all these years of knowing them, I don’t really know them, but I really, really like them. {Do you know anyone like that in your life?}
On this particular occasion I noticed that Mr. Goff arrived late and was alone, and before I could even ask where his better half was, he whipped out his iPhone with a picture on the screen and said, “I’m a Grandpa!” He had just come back into town to attend the dinner, having been a couple of hours away with his daughter and her new family. His wife was still there.
“Oh!” I cooed, and oohed, and ahhed over the picture. I knew his daughter had been married quite awhile and the Goffs had waited patiently to become grandparents. The baby was just precious. I carefully looked at all the photos.
“What’s his name?” I inquired.
“Tommy.” he said, with a smile.
Mr. Goff’s name is Tom.
And that’s when I lost it. Like, really, lost it. I started to cry. Not misty-eyes that I could hide, but big, fat tears. Tears of joy for Mr. Goff. For his daughter, for his wife, for his other daughter, the proud aunt. Tears of joy for Tommy, because he had been born into a family who loved him.
I was embarrassed. “Mr. Goff, you made me cry! I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” I said sheepishly.
{Okay, there are a lot of things wrong with me.}
And yet I know that for me, my reaction was perfectly normal.
I cried big, hot, tears for a family I don’t really know that well because I know that they are a good family. A family that loves and puts each other first, and now, will be extended into another generation. I cried because I was happy for them but most of all because new life is beautiful. I cried because a man’s unabashed pride and joy in his namesake is truly touching.
Even as I’ve been writing this post I’ve been crying. Because it’s poignant, the love for a child.
What’s beautiful in your world today?
(Photo found on Pinterest with no link back to the original. Anyone know who I can credit?)
You’ve got me tearing up too. I cried this morning after dropping off my 21 month old at daycare because I just really wanted to spend the day with her today. I work full time and I’m at peace with that being God’s calling for this point in my life, but I still have those days anyway where I just want to be with my precious kids. I don’t voice it a lot because it usually brings judgement, but your post reminded me today that it’s okay to feel how I feel about it.
This post makes me WANT to cry…but I didn’t. It did make me happy though 🙂 I love hearing about personal connections people make – we miss that a lot in today’s technologically filled world.