This, my friends, is a good day. I don’t often wax religious on these pages, but we spent this Sunday morning where we ought to: in church. We were seated with our friends and their families, and the music was tremendous (an unlikely-looking older fellow in a resort shirt with two buttons open, singing nearly like an operatic tenor, flanked by several sweet-voiced church ladies).
After mass, our new god-daughter, Addelyn, was baptized, along with six other children. She slept peacefully through the first half of the ceremony, until the deacon anointed her chest, then looked in wide wonder as she was baptized with water, marked with chrism, dressed in her white baptismal garment, and entranced by her baptismal flame. We’ve been godparents before, but this one hit home – she feels like one of our own. We love her, and we’ve told her so.
I sat, carefully holding her candle, gazing at this little girl. Then I turned to Jodi and said, “Happy Anniversary.”
That’s right: 12 years now. Jodi and I were once talking to a former coworker of mine at a bar, and he told her that I seemed like the happiest married man he’d ever met. He joked with me that I might be the only one. I didn’t know whether to feel happy or sad about that.
Today I know: I’m happy. Thank God for Jodi – and little Addy, too!