I meant to blog about Benjamin last night, but I ended up trying to get my beauty sleep. It didn't work, sigh. When I logged in just now, I saw where the picture of Benjamin from yesterday was my 100th blog. Whew. I didn't know if I could make this work that long or not. So this will be blog #101, which is a generic term for a college course. Right now I am teaching English writing 1700 (seminar for seniors) and introduction to creative writing 0050 and three sections of English comp I 0005 (for freshmen). But the numbering system here is strange. Back home, those classes would be numbered 1013, 2023, and 4023. Anyhow, here is where I am.
Benjamin's grandparents were pregnant with Benjamin's father when I was about five years old. I am trying to do math (a four-letter word) and what I've decided is Ben's papa is in his mid 40's. I thanked Jehovah last night, as I always do, for something. But this time it was different. I thanked him for something that was not. I thanked him I was not the parent of a little one. I am too old for that now.
I know what you're thinking. If Carly was having a baby, or Kim (I say Carly because she is firstborn, but that doesn't mean squat really) there would be baby pictures everyday on here and I'd be the overwhelming grandparent everyone hates to be seated next to during a long wait in a doctor's office. Maybe. But I'm content not to find out.
Anyhow, Ben's grandfather is a handy guy. I respect him more than I can say. Leslie commented during the WT on Sunday about elders that she had several spiritual fathers back in Philly and she considers our WT conductor her spiritual father here. At first I thought oh come on, really? But of course she does; she's 22 or so. I'm his age so he doesn't strike me as paternal. I respect him, but I just don't see him as fatherly to me. But Ben's grandfather, yes. I'd turn to him for anything and have absolute trust in him.
When Kimberly was five, she had her tonsils out, and the following week an artery started bleeding and she had a second operation in the middle of the night. Both times, Tom and Sherry were there. When Kim came out of recovery, it was after midnight, and I said thank you Tom and ya'll can go home now; she is okay.
He said, "I'm here for Kimberly's mother too." And he took my hand and said a prayer for us both. Unable to say goodnight when he left, I just nodded, about to bawl.
So when Leslie was commenting about that on Sunday, I was thinking of Tom and Kimberly and Sherry and spiritual parents of my own ~ thinking about this grandbaby that Tom and Sherry now have and what kind of grandparents they turned out to be.
It's really funny, because I have to email them every so often and say hey, send me a new picture of that boy! Maybe they are afraid of becoming those kinds of grandparents in waiting rooms who have photo albums in their bags. So this is the latest picture. I laughed with joy over seeing him. His face reveals both his parents and half his grandparents in that little smile. Here we are, 6,000 years removed from perfection, who knows how deteriorated the coding in our DNA is, but we go downhill a lot faster than Methusaleh, for sure, yet look how sweet this little boy is.
His grandfather made him a child-sized podium so he can "Play Kingdom Hall." I am so delighted by this idea I can hardly contain myself. I am thinking of looking for a child-sized brief case to contribute to his "playing out in service" and I would like to bake him a pie to "play get-together." I'd like to send a scaled down name tag from conventions so he could "Play DC."
Bryan is right in his poem. You can't get this kind of family anywhere else. Although I have yet to meet Benjamin in person, he is as real to me as the children in my own congregation, as often in my prayers, and as much joy in my heart. He doesn't know me, but I love him already.
No comments:
Post a Comment