Dear Grandson

Hey there, Little Dude! Happy birthday! Today is your first day on Earth.

You've got a lot of hair. Your mom was bald as a cue ball when Grandma had her. But you've got her toes.

I counted your toes when I held you at the hospital. I've done it with all our babies and grandbabies. "One... Two... Three... Four..." (then a long pause, watching the anticipation on your little faces)... "Five!"

When your cousin Larissa was small she took off her shoes and socks and presented her toes every time she saw me. Your cousin Charlotte did the exact opposite, hiding her feet from me while giggling.

When your Aunt Christine read last week's blog about the mountain top and the valley she texted me to say "Well I'm sorry it didn't work out for you."

I replied "Thanks, but you supplied 20 new baby toes for me to count, so my career in mathematical precision still goes on."

But I'm not writing this just to tell you you inherited your mother's toes. I want you to know about the other traits you inherited.

Mommy's paternal great grandfather was a United States Marine who fought in World War II. Her grandfather was a radar technician in the US Air Force during the Cuban missile crisis.

Her other great grandfather was a police officer. Her other grandfather was a fire fighter.

That means you inherit the courage it takes to do the dangerous work necessary to keep your neighbors safe. It's in your blood, Little Dude. It's who you are.

Inheriting courage doesn't mean you won't be afraid. Courage doesn't mean you live without fear - that's not courage, that's stoopidity. No, courage means you'll be afraid but you'll do what you need to do anyway. It means your fear doesn't control you, you control your fear.

You'll grow into it. I know your great grandfathers' shoes seem very big for a little guy like you to fill, but there's time.

It took me years.

I felt awkward at your gender reveal party, not because I was the only blind guy there, but because I was the only educated guy there. Your dad's family are Texas oilfield workers, vulgar high school dropouts, and southern rednecks. I silently judged them, mentally criticizing their grammar, their accents, and the stereotypical topics of their conversation. Every sentence seemed to contain the words "truck", "gun", "beer", or "let's go Brandon!"

But as the day went on and Mommy opened the presents everyone brought her I realized I'd misjudged them. The love between your dad and his brothers was undeniable. Even a blind man could see the obvious affection they share and the fierceness with which they protect one another.

I've lived in Texas for fifteen years. I spent nearly all that time either working along side blue collar workers or teaching them at the community college. I thought I understood them, but seeing how they loved one another without hesitation at your gender reveal party humbled me.

I felt awkward at first because I was surrounded by willful southern ignorance. I felt awkward at the end because these people I had judged loved so easily and openly. They weren't the ones ignorant about family and love, I was.

Ten years ago Grandma and I watched Mommy sing an Adale song in the middle school talent show. She didn't sit with us when her act was over, though. She sat with your daddy. I watched Mommy lovingly smile at him while he talked to her and I said to Grandma "We're lucky that our kids are falling in love, but we're especially lucky tonight because we're actually getting to watch it happen."

Ten years later and here you are.

This much I know - you inherit a strong work ethic from both sides of your family. You've got the brains to go into science or engineering, but you've also got a workman's pride in a job well done, so you'll fit equally well in a career with AutoCAD and Python or wrenches and tape measures.

You've inherited integrity. When you speak people will know you're speaking the truth.

You've inherited common sense.

And most important and most apparent of all, you come from a birthright of love. Mommy is crazy in love with Daddy, Grandpa is crazy in love with Grandma, and Great Grandpa has been loving Great Grandma for 55 years.

You're going to go far, Kiddo.

Really, really far.