The Godfather

It's an honor when you are asked to be a Godfather. I've been asked several times. As good as the request feels, it comes with a load of responsibility. Godparents are supposed to be spiritual advisers, and help offer guidance to their respective godchild.

I don't see all of my godchildren. Similar to asking someone to stand up in a wedding and then never seeing that person again, I've had that happen on several occasions. I've recently been reluctant to accept an invitation because of previous experience. It seems that when someone has asked me to be a godfather, the relationship immediately changes, and wanes. That's sad, but it's also reality. People change, life changes, and relationships grow distant. That's happened at least three times I can think of, and that's really just sad.

Two years ago, I was asked to be godfather to Bob's son, Ryan. It was the greatest honor because Bob is my closest friend. But Bob, his wife Lisa, Ryan, and their new son/brother, Nathan, live in Baltimore and I don't get to see them often. But when I do, and now that Ryan is talking, this is what I learn:

• "Trees" are Ryan's favorite color;


• Ryan does not like watermelon;


• Ryan knows everything about trucks - even to the point of picking them out and naming them all, with precise accuracy;


• A two year old can know exactly where he is when driving in the car;


• Hearing your Godson call you, "Uncle Cory" for the first time, melts your heart;