I was a little anxious. For one I'm no longer a fan of air travel, and I used to be such a great flier. Also, I anticipated we would be entertaining when my husband and my most important duties were to prep/pack for our brief interlude. As well, I tasked myself with putting dinner on. Even simple pork chops take some time to get on.
Admittedly, we ended up having one of the most harmonious nights I can remember in our house. After dinner, Kevin cleared plates. Max set up his bassoon. Terry got out our gift wrapping. I got out my stationery.
While I sat at the table, pouring out my heart in writing to my dear goddaughter, my loving husband meticulously wrapped her gift. Max practiced his bassoon, which he's quite good at. And Kevin entertained himself watching a movie cuddled up with our dog Millie. You know that really warm feeling you get when the moment is just right. Oh I got that feeling all over, starting smack dab in the center of my chest. Everyone was doing their thing, creativity filled the air. Everyone was at peace, enjoying themselves. We weren't keeping to ourselves either. Even as I was writing I took breaks to interact. Max would have us guess at the songs he played. Some of them recognizable, others a bit obscure. The room was full of the warmth of a peaceful, loving family. What great inspiration for the important writing work I had to do that night.
Here's the letter I hand wrote to accompany my goddaughter's gift:
Dearest Gianna,
I would very much like for your mom and dad to keep this for
you so someday you will come to know my intended presence in your life. Your
parents have bestowed upon me one of the greatest honors my life’s purpose has
known. I am deeply humbled they asked me to be one of your godparents.
A godparent can be many things. A friend. A confidant. A
guide. A care giver. I never had an official godparent. Still I had one very
special person who modeled for me the most important thing you’ll ever know in
your lifetime; unconditional love.
Your mother and I have a wonderful bond that goes beyond
friendship. We love one another like brother and sister. We are family of our
own divine choosing. Though at this time in your life we live hundreds of miles
apart, upon your mother’s call I was there to meet you on the day you were
born. What a glorious day that was, the skies were silver and gold. Your mother
nearly crossed worlds to make certain you had the perfect birth, and she
wouldn’t have hesitated to lay down her life for you. When you arrived such a
bright new light you shone upon the world. You made your parents the two
luckiest, happiest people on Earth.
On this day of your Christening I give you a reminder of my
youth and the promise my life held for the world. Now I pass this onto you. My,
now your, baby cup. Cups can be filled with water, representing life, purity,
emotion and renewal. My love, always may your cup runneth over and we remain in
each other’s hearts.
As a godparent it is my intention you know your own
greatness with humility. Also, whether your cup is empty, full or somewhere in
between, I vow to always be someone who will show up for you whenever you want
or need me to be there for you.
Love without question, your devoted godfather,
B
We gave my goddaughter my silver baby cup, which my husband had hand engraved with her initials. He then polished and wrapped it exquisitely. I am so honored and deeply humbled to accept this role in Gia's life. I am also incredibly grateful.
As luck would have it, the largest wind storm on record blew into Town just as our flight was preparing to takeoff from SeaTac. As we taxied toward the runway, the plane listed side to side from the force of the wind gusts against the wings. We were still very much on the ground even. Looking out the windows was no help. Trees bent, leaves flew. As we rounded the turn onto runway one, all the construction equipment on runway two had white and red checkered flags whipping fiercely in the wind. This did nothing to calm my nerves about the uncertainty of a windstorm's affects on a plane attempting to make its way in the angry skies above. It was very bumpy ascension heavenward, and isn't that the perfect and most timely metaphor. With gratitude we had a safe trip to Denver and back. It's always so good to be home.
A few things I would like to briefly acknowledge about Denver. The first, when we arrived we got ourselves a little bite. I opted for a salad and apple juice at a "Parisian" style café cart. Terry got a bagel sandwich. My salad was uneatable. After I finished the apple juice, which was in a plastic cup, I noticed a spot of black mold on the underside of the lid. I brought the items back. The gal at the register asked if I wanted another. I declined, asking for a refund and pointing out you cannot serve food like that to people. She was flustered by this.
We were greeted at the rental car company by the nicest guy ever. Though immediately upon exiting the rental car office, my husband and I were bitch slapped by a dust devil. We were spitting out dust for miles as we made our way into Downtown Denver.
Third, after giving my best friend the gift to accept on behalf of her child, we made our way back to our hotel just as some random neighboring city fireworks were being ignited. The lovely evening we spent at my best friend's grandma's house with her wonderful family was perfectly night capped with a splendid fireworks display. This more than made up for the DIA welcome we initially received.
As luck would have it, the largest wind storm on record blew into Town just as our flight was preparing to takeoff from SeaTac. As we taxied toward the runway, the plane listed side to side from the force of the wind gusts against the wings. We were still very much on the ground even. Looking out the windows was no help. Trees bent, leaves flew. As we rounded the turn onto runway one, all the construction equipment on runway two had white and red checkered flags whipping fiercely in the wind. This did nothing to calm my nerves about the uncertainty of a windstorm's affects on a plane attempting to make its way in the angry skies above. It was very bumpy ascension heavenward, and isn't that the perfect and most timely metaphor. With gratitude we had a safe trip to Denver and back. It's always so good to be home.
A few things I would like to briefly acknowledge about Denver. The first, when we arrived we got ourselves a little bite. I opted for a salad and apple juice at a "Parisian" style café cart. Terry got a bagel sandwich. My salad was uneatable. After I finished the apple juice, which was in a plastic cup, I noticed a spot of black mold on the underside of the lid. I brought the items back. The gal at the register asked if I wanted another. I declined, asking for a refund and pointing out you cannot serve food like that to people. She was flustered by this.
We were greeted at the rental car company by the nicest guy ever. Though immediately upon exiting the rental car office, my husband and I were bitch slapped by a dust devil. We were spitting out dust for miles as we made our way into Downtown Denver.
Third, after giving my best friend the gift to accept on behalf of her child, we made our way back to our hotel just as some random neighboring city fireworks were being ignited. The lovely evening we spent at my best friend's grandma's house with her wonderful family was perfectly night capped with a splendid fireworks display. This more than made up for the DIA welcome we initially received.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment