How I Met My Goddaughter

It can be argued that my introduction to my Goddaughter came months before her birth. Watching as my aunt's stomach grew. Feeling the faint kicks of the soon-to-be karate black belt. Though I can't remember exactly when my Uncle Mark and Aunt Ruth announced that they were pregnant, it had to be towards the end of my high school career. Some time during the latter spring or early summer of 1995.

Before she had a name, she was known in our family as 'Waldo'. A name my uncle - a bit of a joker - assigned her. Especially for the signing of my birthday and Christmas cards that year. 'Love Uncle Mark, Aunt Ruth, Spooky, and "Waldo"' it read. (Spooky was the cat.)

Around Christmas Aunt Ruth knew the time was coming sooner rather than later. Or at least she hoped so. What was the due date? I have no idea. Perhaps Uncle Mark can leave that info in the comment. But it was certainly in the midst of early winter.

The day came. January 4, 1996. I got the call and headed to the hospital. I don't remember much about the day. Except the snow on the ground.

I entered the hospital room. And I don't even remember who was there. My aunt, of course. My uncle, proud as a peacock. But, I was most interested in making the acquaintance of a beautiful little girl by the name of Julia. Her great-grandmother's name. And, of course, a beautiful Beatles song written by none other than John Lennon. My uncle's favorite.

She now sits on the cusp of turning into a teenager. She, the accomplished black belt. She, the 'A' student. She, who loves her crafts. She, who loves to help people. She, with the quick wit. And she, with the golden heart.

Julia, I am proud of you. And I love you. I thank God - and your parents - every day for the gift of allowing me to be your Godfaddah...