My last
installment from the Beltway trip is the best.
Gettysburg,
D.C., Fort McHenry, etc., were all on my "bucket list," to
be sure.
The
best part of the trip, though, was one I had frankly given up on ever
happening: holding a grandchild who would carry on our crazy, good,
bad and indifferent gene pool to another generation.
I
have two other grandchildren I love deeply. Joshua and Lela. I like
to say they were "born in my heart," though not my
bloodline.
And I mean that with all my heart.
Holding
Gabriel was precious, though, in a way I had not expected to
experience.
I
marveled at all those ancestors -- now including my wife, Barbara,
and myself -- who culminated genetically in that tiny, grunting,
squirming bundle of boy I rocked in a Towson, Md. townhouse for two
weeks.
Add
that to the generations of his father, Idal, represented. . . men and
women stretching back into the mists of West Africa's nation of
Cameroon.
Gabriel's
heritage, then, spans three continents and most people groups, other
than Asian. Amazing. A lot to put on a (then) 7 pound, 5 ounce infant, though.
And
if there is such a thing as generational healing, perhaps it
culminates in Gabriel's advent, too. A couple centuries ago, some of
my relatives bought West African slaves and used them to gain wealth
on plantations throughout the Deep South.
When
I visited Gettysburg, standing on Little Round Top, I mused that I
trod ground where my southern ancestors fought and died, ultimately
losing a decisive battle that ushered in the demise of slavery in
America.
And at the end of that Civil War, a Maj. Mims was a signatory
of the Appomatox surrender registry for the defeated Army of Northern
Virginia.
Standing
in the rows of Union troops witnessing that surrender likely were
other relatives, the Sprouls from Maine, and not a few runaway slaves
who enlisted in the U.S. Colored Troops divisions, men who signed up
under the name "Mims," having long since lost their own
names.
Irony.
And justice. All
those historical metaphors.
But
the best part of Gabriel was inexpressible.
How
do you describe the warmth, peace and fulfillment of holding a
newborn grandson?
God
bless you Gabe, Lela and Joshua.
May
the heritage this grandfather passes on to you be one of faith -- in God, your family and yourselves.
And Gabriel? Never forget your parents named you so for a reason. Your name?
It means: God is my strength.
