My Son Is Now A Father

By Frank Workman | Jan 05, 2015

A month ago my son Tim and his lovely wife Jena had a beautiful and healthy baby girl named Emma Roo Workman.

Blessed events call for reflection, and our flight down to San Diego to spend the holidays with them afforded such an opportunity.

I got to thinking about all the different names my son has been called.

Before he was born, while just a bun-in-the-oven, we called him  PeeWee.

His Birth Certificate says  Timothy Marcus. (As did I on those occasions when he took a called strike three to kill a rally.)

As a pre-schooler, he went by  Timmy  a lot.

Once he started school, he was just plain Tim.  Although many nights when I tucked him into bed and kissed him good night, I called him  Champ.

Tim was a baseball player, and as he got older, teammates affectionately called him Timmy.  

He wore uniform #20, and was frequently referred to as   Two-Oh  on the ballfield.

When he was still living at home during his high school days, I would return his salutation of  'Hey Pop' with a 'Hey Boy' back to him.

When he got off to college and then law school, my greeting changed to  'Hey Son'.


Christmas Eve found me wrapping presents.

The last one was  small - a kid's-sized edition of  'Twas The Night Before Christmas'.   It was a book I used to read to him every year before he went to bed prior to Santa's big visit.

As I reached for the gift tag to attach to the present, I paused.  A lifetime's worth of events flashed by.

FROM:   and   TO:    read the tag.

I thought about it for a minute.

I wrote   'Emma', as if she herself was giving the book to him.

I took a breath.

After TO,  I wrote   'Daddy'.

Yet another name for him to go by.

There's no question about it.

 

Frank the Man

 

 

 

 

 

Comments (1)
Posted by: Paul Archipley | Jan 05, 2015 09:52

Touching and heartfelt. Hopefully there won't be too many opportunities for you to mumble "Emma Roo" following a called third strike.



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