Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Scout, the World. The World, Scout.

Early in the wee hours of Sunday, April 16th (Easter Sunday for those who are so inclined to keep up with such things) Madison Mobley Scout McGill made his entry kicking (quite literally) and screaming (you’d better believe it!) into this world.

Madison being the middle name of the first born son in my family dating back centuries to our ancestoral roots in Ireland, and Mobley standing proudly as Wendy Lu’s mother’s family name, with the backing of a group of such strong women, including centurians, behind it.

Seeing that my bride and I both hail from the Southern United States, Harper Lee’s magnificent novel touched each of us dearly as children. For us, Scout stands for all that it means to be an adventurer, a seeker of knowledge and the potential to be a true hero.

The significance of Scout’s arriving on Easter Sunday is not lost on Wendy Lu and I. Could his timing have possibly been any more perfect? What other day on a calendar of 365 little cycles could have possibly been better? Easter IS birth, so I’ve got to give my boy big, BIG kudos in the spectacular entrance department. He can’t even read or write (well, at least not for a week or two ;) and he’s already making grand entrances.

Wow. After nine months of waiting, whadya know? The doctors were right and there was in fact a baby in my wife’s belly. Modern medicine never fails to amaze, eh? But what they didn’t tell us, nor could they, is just how absolutely delightfully perfect this kid would be.

Oh, don’t get me wrong…he’s a crier when it comes to mama and feeding time. But if that were your only means of communication, whether cheerful or sad, angry or ecstatic...don’t even pretend for a second that you wouldn’t cry too. But you want to talk adorable? My boy’s got it in spades.

Yes, yes…I know. Every parent thinks that his or her son or daughter is the most beautiful, the most wondrous little gift on God’s blue and green marble. And I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news for all those other mommy’s and daddy’s…but it just so happens that I’m right.

This is going to sound so clichéd, hell I’ve thought so myself when friends would tell me, but I’m going to say it anyway…I’ve never been more proud, or more happy as I was at that moment when the doctors told us we have a son.

Happiness doesn’t even begin to describe that moment in time. I don’t even know if we have a word in the
language that can, but if you can imagine wrapping yourself up inside joy, as though joy and elation were the softest down comforter in your grandma's house when you were a small child.

Being inside joy, being so filled that I could simply burst at the seams like all the piñatas overstuffed with treats that await this little traveler in his times ahead. That is but the smallest hint I can give of how he and my wife made me feel.

And I am just so grateful.

i met a young man of light on that long dark road.


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