The First

My son is now negative six days old. Ish.

According to the man with the stethoscope and a lounge chair with paper that sticks to people's butts and frighteningly awkward stirrups.

The preparations are being made. His first Bible is on the way. Apparently, though, my son does not
yet have a first name. This is a problem his mother is most keenly aware of.

She has made me aware of it, as well.

I vaguely recall hearing mention of this at times before. Now, in a strange twist, it is being repeated again and with a frenzy.

It has even been circulated that it would be in the best interest of the parties involved to see that he has a name before he reaches zero.

I don't quite know what that means.
But the dull glaze over her eyes when I refer to Boy Demsick could be a clue.

I, myself, am wholly excited about the world of possibility that is within her.

My boy is inside.

An adventure lies on each side of his walls. One out here, I can't wait to show him, of cowboys and tents and living room forts. Trails through forests and sunsets and sails.

On the other, a person is quietly growing, with a glow in his eyes uniquely his own. A passion that will someday become a man's, who will set his own sail to the oceans that rise and fall in his eyes. And the compass in his heart.

These things call to me. They beckon who I am. They bring me to my son.

Who will he be? Will he someday look forward, as I am, immersed in his own self-awareness of what it means to be a Demsick, yet captivated in wonder at the next generation? Will his heart draw him back to the one that came before?

Father. Son. Demsicks. Men.

This legacy of wonder we pass along to our sons.

Though I know but little, I am certain of one thing. This boy is my son. When he grows into a man he will be a fearsome thing.

And he will have a name.

Whether this is the product of a dull glaze over the eyes or frightening stirrups remains to be seen.

In the meantime, I'll go back to preparing his sails and try to ignore the frenzy when it returns.

It is possible that it may pass over in time.