December 22nd

December 22, 2010



Twenty-seven years ago today, I learned the true meaning of cold. That night we had temperatures of 22 below zero and a wind-chill of nearly 70 below: engine blocks cracked, water pipes and sewer mains burst, exposed flesh froze in seconds. It was damned cold.

What was I doing that night? Why, I was starting cars in the parking lot of the Fairview Southdale Hospital in Edina, MN. That’s because my wife, the Nordic Warrior Queen, was giving birth to our first-born. And even though she was warm and cozy inside her hospital room, she was aware of the outside temperatures, and worried about people’s cars freezing up.

So, in between contractions, she would nag me to go outside into the sub-arctic air and start our car, along with the cars of her mother, her sister, my mother, the head nurse, the obstetrician, the hospital receptionist, and the janitor. Just in case.

We had some scary moments that night. Aside from the likelihood of my being found frozen solid in the parking lot the next morning, or the possibility of death from an exploding car battery or a wayward snowplow, there were some problems with the birth.

Simply put, the kid had a huge melon of a head, and it didn’t want to come out. That, and he was upside down.

As such, I was treated to a sight I will never forget, which was to see two huge salad spoons, more suitable for an all-you-can-eat buffet at the Golden Corral, as well as the right hand of the obstetrician, disappearing into the naughty parts of my blushing bride. Yuck.

She says it hurt…lots. But all’s well as ended well. Our son finally emerged, battered and bruised, but none the worse for wear. We took him home in time for Christmas Eve.

And over the years, he grew as children should, even though he was a bit clumsy. Since he had such a big head, naturally his first mishap involved a finishing nail in the forehead, which after some x-rays, was found to have penetrated no further than the bone.

He broke his arm on a ride toy, and then broke it again few years later. One spring day I watched him turn a three-and-a-half gainer down the deck stairs, removing several large patches of skin from his face and elbow. In short, the kid was a total klutz.

He’s grown up moderately well, though, and we’re proud of him. After High School, he joined the Army and served in Iraq. He came home, settled into the corner bedroom like he would never leave, and went to college. And except for that recent B in his Material Sustainability course, he’s done quite well, and looks forward to a promising career beginning at Raytheon.

But Jake’s most notable achievement has been his son Matthew. Unlike his father, the kid quite possibly never stops talking. He’s also turning into a real smartass, which I blame on his father. Despite this, he is a bright point in all our lives, especially that of his Nana.

In a few months, Jake and Matt will move away and start a new life with Cassandra and her son Evan. Even though it will mean far less laundry and a much smaller food bill, we will miss having them around.

Happy Birthday, Jake. We love you.

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