Wade, the Baby of our Family, has had a Baby!
Okay, technically, his wife, Jackie, gave birth to the baby, but being technical was never my long suit. They have named him Vincent, a lovely name he shares with the Green Bay Packers’ sainted coach, Vince Lombardi. Since Wade is an avid Chicago Bears fan, a love he inherited from his dad, I don’t think that’s why they picked the name.
Of course, there is St. Vincent de Paul, who is, I think, the patron saint of used furniture. There also was a Vincent who was a cousin of my mother’s – Vincent Kelly. His son, Father Jerry Kelly, married Bing and me. Vincent Kelly’s dubious claim to fame was he drove like he was competing in the Indianapolis 500, and no one in the family wanted to ride with him.
As the baby’s due date of January 7 came and went with no sign of Vincent, the question, “Has the baby come yet?” became almost a mantra.
Wade is used to having his sisters ask questions and give him advice – he once complained mildly to my mother, “Gran, I have five mothers!”
He’s Here! The Newest Grandchild
Vincent finally made his appearance on January 13, a few days shy of Martin Luther King Day. Which I bring up so I can slip in one of my favorite memories of Wade as a little boy. He came home from first grade with a drawing he’d made in class of Dr. King. He explained to his father and me that, “Arthur Luther King had a dream, and his dream was that everyone in the whole world could use the same bathroom.”
Since the proud parents live in far-off California, I have only met Vincent on FaceTime. Thank God for FaceTime! I greeted him when he was only hours old and when he heard his Nana’s voice, he smiled! Honest!
I’ll meet him in person before too long. In the meantime, Wade asked me to send him all the words to “Go Tell Aunt Rhody,” one of the many bedtime songs I happily regaled our children with. Never mind that the song is all about Aunt Rhody’s dead goose – “Go tell Aunt Rhody the old grey goose is dead … she died in the mill pond because she wasn’t fed.” All the verses are equally mournful, but they were great for putting babies to sleep.
In case all of you, or some of you, or even one of you wonder what young grandchild Vincent looks like, I’ll oblige by including a picture of him here, since you’ve twisted my arm.
Cute, isn’t he?
Our newest grandchild, Vincent!
