I. The Game
I spent Saturday afternoon at a football game.
I know that Saturday is college football day, and I know that it was Homecoming at my alma mater. DePauw also had a game right here in town. But I didn’t go to a college game.
I went to the fifth- and sixth-grade game between the Warren County Patriots and the South Vermillion Steelers. Although I would sooner cut off my left hand than cheer for the Patriots to beat the Steelers in the NFL, I was firmly behind the Patriots on this one.
I had to be. My niece plays offensive and defensive line for the Patriots.
That’s right, I said “niece.”
There was a time when I would have been dead set against a girl playing football, but your opinion on such things cools when a family member is involved.
Why shouldn’t a girl play? If she enjoys herself, that’s all that really matters. Having fun is the point of the boys playing, so it’s also the point when a girl plays.
It has also inspired several versions of the following conversation for her parents and grandparents at recent games:
“Do you have a grandson playing?”
“No, my granddaughter.”
“Oh, she’s a cheerleader?”
“No...she’s playing football.”
“Oh...” [awkward silence]
Awkward silences can be a lot of fun if you’re on the correct side of them.
II. The Waiting Game
We’re in the homestretch of my wife’s pregnancy. She’s due July 24, but we think it is likely to happen sooner.
What’s so strange to me is that I know my life is about to change seismically, but I don’t know exactly when.
It’s a rather weird waiting game.
Almost three years ago we got married, but we knew exactly when that was going to happen. I could look ahead and say, “On November 17, 2007, at 2:30 p.m., things are going to be different forever.”
I didn’t really know what to expect, but at least I knew when to expect it.
Not so this time. Instead, we have a little five-pound boy who’s never seen the light of day, and he basically holds the cards. Whenever he’s ready to make his entrance, we’d better be ready. It’s going to happen, one way or the other.
With that in mind, my wife is prepared. She has a bag packed with all the stuff she’ll need for the hospital stay. This morning, she told me the camera was on my side of the bag, and I just needed to slip my change of clothes in underneath when I got them together.
But, of course, my stuff isn’t together. I know I’m in the right profession—I always need a deadline. But there isn’t exactly a deadline in this situation. I’m pretty sure I won’t be waiting until she says “it’s time” to hastily go pack my things.
She might kill me for that.
Actually, I think I’ll go pack my stuff now. It’s July, so a T-shirt and shorts should work, right?
III. Somebody’s Dad
So much to say, so much to say.
And yet, I can’t really find the proper words.
At 6:58 p.m. on Friday, July 23, 2010, Nicole and I welcomed Miles Scot Jernagan into the world.
Perhaps it’s the lack of sleep I’ve had over the past four days, or maybe it’s just being overwhelmed by the gravity of it all, but I have remarkably little to say about this life-changing event right now.
I can only say that he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and I can never thank Nicole enough times for giving him to me.
I can’t believe I’m somebody’s dad.
I think I always worried that getting married and having kids would take away the “me” time. I was exactly right—your “me” time goes right out the window for the most part. You treasure it when you have it.
Those times aren’t nearly as important as they used to be. The “me” moments are good for my mind in finding some peace, but the “us” moments fill up my soul.
