I had the opportunity to pay a visit to my godson’s house this weekend and spend a few hours with him, his two brothers, and his mom and dad. It was an enlightening experience, to say the least.
I was pretty disappointed in myself when I left because I took a minute to think about the actual amount of time I have actually spent with Sebastian, and I would be generous if the total hours spent added up to more than 24 hours. He is eight years old and is the most charming little guy you will ever meet. I know so very little about him, and if my generous math is correct, I have missed roughly 2019 days of his approximately 2020 days so far.
In 8 years of his life, something else has always come up that has either legitimately or illegitimately hindered my knowing my godson. The actual title of Godfather, depending on how seriously you take it, literally means if something happened to Jason and Carlene, I would ultimately be held accountable for the well being of this little guy.
What’s more frustrating is as little as I truly know about him is about as much as he knows about me. Sure, the family says great things about “Uncle Tim,” but outside of a few Yankees games and some sporadic visits, we are both strangers to one another. On the plus side of things, every moment we have spent together have been momentous, and I hope in some way make up for the time I have not been there. We experienced his first Yankees game together, and every year I make sure we continue this legacy lest he become a Mets fan like some other people in our family whose names will go unmentioned in this blog. 🙂 We’ve drawn pictures on the driveway in the back of his house with sidewalk chalk. We had a sleepover where he grilled me for hours—while my legs dangled over a plastic-wrapped bed built for munchkins—about all sorts of things ’til the wee hours of the morning.
Just when I felt I had fallen asleep, I was awoken to this little guy’s face right in mine… apparently Sebastian needs about four hours of sleep to embark upon his day of adventures, and he was reminding me of something I had promised several hours earlier in exchange for letting me get some much needed shut eye.
That’s the awesome thing about kids. Their absolute resiliency and eagerness to live and the forgivingness, in exchange for the here and now. When I walked in yesterday, I heard the three most awesome words (“Uncle Tim’s here.”), and it was real excitement in the delivery, followed by a little 105-lb. bull barreling at me full speed to give me a hug. Inside, my heart welled up with pride, and at the same time a huge guilt blanketed over he top of it. Those three words and the genuineness of the way they were said did something to me yesterday more than they ever had.
Sebastian has a little brother TJ, who is a spitting image for his older brother, and I watched and just took in the pride that Sebastian had in looking over his “little guy.” I saw it for the second time in my life and knew exactly what he was feeling. The bond was being built: the only connection a brother can have to a younger brother. The makings of a best friend—pride, love, expectations—all bundled into a single emotion as only a child can compile it… relentless in its ferocity and loyalty.
At that point I knew my godson and I were one and that things had better change lest I be the dumbest person on the planet for ignoring one of the greatest things life has to offer. I have the opportunity to not only be a part of this little guy’s life and help him grow up to be the strong man he will undoubtedly become, but also be able to get a good look from the outside and see how David and I became what we were. And maybe I’ll have the opportunity to be a voice of guidance in a way that his mom and dad will never truly comprehend, and I think they’ll give me the liberty to do so. That is assuming I learn to talk eight-year-old. (Turns out I talk with Sebastian as if he was 36, I know I got some work to do.)
What a gift—the opportunity to watch it happen. To be the only person in the room who really knows what is going on with each hug and what it feels like to be a big brother.
