Naming the baby

My grampa and I were close. He did little things all the time to show me he loved me.

For instance, whenever he knew I would be stopping by the house, he went up to A&W and got me a vanilla shake. I only like chocolate shakes, but I so loved that he did this for me that I never told him.

He used to say all the time, “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

My first baby was due on Dec. 20, and Grampa had brought my family to Colorado to be with me. They got there Dec. 13, just in case.

By the 23rd I was jumping in the snow, trying to hurry things along.

Grampa came out with a cup of coffee and sat down to watch me. “What will his middle name be?”

“It’ll be my husband’s name, unless he’s born on the 28th. If he’s born on your birthday, Grampa, I’ll believe fate wants him to have your name.”

Grampa made me stop jumping. “Hold that kid in five more days!”

My son was born the next day.

While I was in the bed, my husband filled out paperwork.

“I named him after Grampa anyway,” he announced. That baby-naming maverick.

But the truth was, I was happy he wanted to make Grampa happy.

I would do anything for him, too.

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3 Responses to “Naming the baby”

  1. fred bauman Says:

    Our second son was born on Halloween. As Vivian rested from delivery I told her that I had named the baby ‘Hal Owen’. “You better not.” she warned but I told her it was too late to change. “Is that so,” she said, “then watch me get out of this bed and you getting in it with at least a broken nose and multiple contusions. I was kidding of course. We named him David, as planed.
    fab

  2. Naming babies is dangerous « Stories O' Mine Says:

    […] Stories O' Mine My life has been one long descent into respectability « Naming the baby […]

  3. Naming babies is dangerous « Stories O' Mine Says:

    […] Stories O' Mine My life has been one long descent into respectability « Naming the baby […]

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