minalisms


    Godparenting

    I’ve received some fine compliments and awards and scholarships in my life. They’ve all reminded me that I’m a pretty fetching package, built with threads of brain and beams of beauty.

    But it wasn’t until this year, specifically these past two months, that I was awarded the most flattering compliment of all: the title of godparent — times two.

    The moniker was bestowed upon Ben and me sans religious overtones. Yet the weight of the duty remains. In fact, due to the seriousness of the responsibility, my immediate, latent reaction when presented with the question was to cry over the thought of tragedy striking, then zip through a billion questions and “what if” scenarios until both parents reconsidered the wisdom of designating a paranoid as a caretaker of their baby.

    The hidden reaction is not a joke. Instead, it’s indicative of my wholehearted determination to succeed in my new role. 

    But my actual reaction — also not a joke — was of delighted, gracious acceptance. 

    So, like in past instances where I expressed gratitude for an award or praise or prize, I must say thanks.

    Thank you, Rich and Marilyn, Dana and Shedrick, for the highest honor any parent can give to somebody. Your kids will always be cared for. 

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