Nova lifted us all to the holy occasion on her big day. Waking up and looking at her smiley happy giggly baby face is eating a slice of heaven. Just being in her presence makes me calm and centered.
My sister is so good about letting others just be with Nova. I love that about her as a mother. She isn't over watchy or critical or panicky as some young moms I've seen. She's very loving and fun and at ease with her new role; it's amazing to see. She makes it easy to feel comfortable when I want to boggart time with my niece ;-)!
And gosh was Nova ever precious. Her long white dress of tulle poofed and spilled out of her car seat. It was so poofy we could barely clasp her belt. She wore her handmade pearl and amethyst (her Feb. birthstone) bracelet with her name on it that I customized for her from Dara's baby bling store on etsy. The charm on the tiny bracelet was a guardian angel.
At St. Andrew's church, we file in and fill the pews. The pastor opens the service prayerfully and also reminds us to pick up the Lutheran church newsletter on our way out. From my seat I can see the front page headline "Your Gay Neighbors." I stifle a giggle, amused by what information this article might impart. I imagine it might read something like this: Be nice to them but remember--they're going to hell. Council them to pray their way away from gay. (One of many reasons I don't go to church is that church culture supports this kind of nonsense.)
But I'm extra-partial to this church because my grandmother finds solace here and for that I am grateful and I find solace too. Our family marks our beautiful moments here--our beginnings and endings and our hopeful inbetweens. From our weddings to our funerals, we celebrate the circle of life here. And today, we watch as God wraps his grace around our newest family member.
Shortly after starting, my sis and her husband and Nova and me and my brother join the pastor at the front. I watch her the entire time and I say I will to what the pastor asks of me. And my brother nods too. I know he's asking me, as her godparent, to carry her faithfully into the palm of the Lutheran faith and I say yes but I jumble the semantics in my brain a bit because while I promise to support her spiritually, so she knows God and his goodness, I probably won't be ushering her into the pews every week.
While the pastor may disagree, I believe that God approves. Because all faith is Lutheran faith and Lutheran faith is all faith. As it is with Catholics and Buddhists and Muslims too. God is what love is. And that's the promise I make to her.
My own godmother, my Aunt Janice, the night before the baptism spoke a bit woefully to me about her own godmother role in my life. She said she herself tried to fulfill her duties as ambassador of my faith when she called to ask my mother if she could take me to the necessary classes to get confirmed. My mother, god bless her, said her children chose their own religious path and that she would ask me. To which, I, at the tender pre-teen age of 11 or 12, replied with a simple "No." And so it was settled.
While I sense my Aunt feels a tad sad by the abrupt "end" of her stewardship, what she needs to know is, in my mind, she DID fulfill her duties, in spite of our church blocking. In that, I have ALWAYS felt her love. Dear Aunt Janice, I have always felt your love...
From birthdays to graduations to weddings--she handmade scrapbooks and banners, she fussed and asked of me, she gave me compliments and loving smiles and her presence. When I recently moved here to San Diego, I had to clean out a lot of my old boxes. In one of those boxes, I found letters and cards from her from over the years. I sat on the empty carpet of my living room floor and re-read a pile of letters she sent after I graduated from high school and moved to Phoenix. I was eighteen, I felt alone, and I needed them, even if I didn't know it then.
Having that love and support in my life SHOWS me what God Is...and that's the pact I make with Nova.
Nova never makes a peep during the entire baptism, staring happily at the pastor as his words lull and crest. When he dips her head to the stainless steel bowl in the podium, her bright blue eyes are so clear as she peacefully looked up at him. He cups his palm into the water and lifts it. The water pours slowly over the top of her head, slicking down her hair to her warm soft head. It's quiet and touching and lovely; we're humbled and moved.
After the service, our family gathers for food and cake. I'm happy all day. I later say good-bye to my family as they drive off to Minneapolis, and I spend the remaining hours with Tiffany and her husband and her two kids until they drop me off at the airport. There too, I am with large pieces of my existence. And so I'm complete.
It's home again home again on the two planes. Travel is like I like it--silent and free. I'm so tired I crash into my husband's arms like sand. His shoulder nook is one of my favorite places; I am safe and loved.
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