Thursday, February 11, 2010
Two weeks ago I was shown this extremely blurry pciture. I squinted my eyes and tried to focus. I have to admit, I knew what it was before I squinted, I was putting on a show - to delay my reaction. There was a lot to think about. In those nano seconds, I was watching my life flash before my eyes (it, of course, isn't about me, it's about the 'Moreno Baby' and the baby's mom and dad).
But still, it came as a shocker - we were all eating pizza and it was noisy. My mind drifted to the hundreds of conversations I've had over the years about: 'what do you want to be called when you're a grandfather ....'. "I'm not that old yet, never will be, not gonna happen ...." were my usual replies. I've had this feeling before, like the first time I saw a gray hair, or going to the gym and having to step-down the barbell weight for curls ('just too heavy today'), or when I got the AARP card in the mailbox, or the first time some high schooler called me 'sir', or the day I gave my little girl away and then the day I gave my other little girl away, and the day my doctor insisted I start taking certain medications. And the list goes on.
Blurry pictures. These are the times that try men's souls.
And the Moreno Baby is but one more step in the process of life. And I'll need to get things into focus. Come September, 2010, what do I want to be called? Who do I want to be?
In the book of Joel it says: .... "the threshing floors will again be piled high with grain, and the presses will overflow with new wine."
Things are looking good.