I've waited a month to break the news because I couldn't just mention it without follow up, and it's such a special milestone it deserved its own column.
I'm a grandfather.
It's still weird saying it. I'm a grandfather.
Some of you have known me since I was a teenager. But now I'm a grandfather. It's hard to believe.
Among my many vices is vanity. I've always been athletic. At 48, I'm still in excellent shape. I'm flattered when people mistaken Ty Detmer as my quarterback and annoyed when they think I played with Virgil Carter. I dance with my 17-year-old and all her friends at her school "Daddy-Daughter Dance" to Miley Cyrus' "Party In the USA," while other fathers are sitting with sore knees, bad backs or just fatigue. Her girlfriends think it's awesome that I know the lyrics that we sing in unison — off key — while dancing: "I hopped off the plane at LAX, with a dream and my cardigan ..."
But now my young staff in the sports department call me "Gramps." They left a walker, Geritol and a "Clapper" at my desk a few weeks ago.
And you know what? I LOVE IT!
Our son LJ and his wife Kaylie had a baby boy last month they named Gabriel Alaka'ipono Sikahema. They've always loved the name Gabriel because he's the angel who announced the Savior's coming and his middle name means "righteous leader."
My wife flew into Utah mid-March to spend a week after Gabriel was born. Then, we flew in together for conference weekend and stayed until Monday.
For a week and a half, we slept on LJ and Kaylie's couch and on the floor of their little Provo apartment to maximize every moment with Gabriel. When the rest of our family flew in last weekend for Gabriel's baby blessing, we put them up in a nearby motel but my wife and I kept our honored place as grandparents on the floor of their cramped apartment.
When my kids were young, my parents regularly came east to visit. My father is a tough man, no nonsense, will fight at the drop of a hat, built like a tank, tattoo on his right biceps from a youthful indiscretion before he joined the Church, and was especially hard on me as a kid. Yet, he melted like April snow around my children. I would ask him, "Dad, why weren't you this soft with me when I was growing up?" He'd answer, "Because you aren't my grandson."
Duh.
I only thought it, wouldn't dare say it. I suppose I could have since my dad isn't familiar with the term or sarcasm.
Even with our grandson, I'm having to relearn things. One day Kaylie was holding Gabriel and his pacifier fell from his mouth to the floor. I picked it up and casually handed it back to her. Still holding Gabriel, Kaylie stood, walked to the sink and ran the pacifier under hot water for two minutes before returning to the couch and reinserting the binky in Gabe's mouth. I'd forgotten that with the first one, young mothers do that.
On Sunday, LJ blessed Gabriel Alaka'ipono in their student ward. I stood next to him in a circle that included my father, LJ's older brother Landon, Kaylie's dad Steve, her uncle Terry and her two grandfathers, Max Hancock and David Jorgenson.
As LJ spoke, I remembered holding him in my palm in a similar circle nearly 23 years ago and calling upon the powers of Heaven to guide him that he might serve an honorable mission and marry someone righteous in the temple. The same basic things that everyone else says.
It's humbling to realize in that moment, that whatever I mumbled in that blessing in 1988, had fallen short of what the Lord has given him. If we're fortunate, in 22 or 23 years, Kaylie's dad, Steve, and I hope to be in our father's shoes and stand alongside LJ as Gabriel blesses his own child. The circle in which we stood, had come full-circle.
Before the blessing, LJ showed me a binder of several pages he's been compiling before he became a dad. It's titled: "To My Son." With his permission, I'm sharing some of my favorites from it. It's a list of things learned from home, church, scouting, school, friends, books, lyrics and just his observation of life. They aren't in any particular order, just a random list of things he wants Gabriel and future brothers to consider. There are pages of his thoughts, but here is a sampling:
When in doubt, wear a tie
Never ask to be taken out of a game
Never take liberties with women
Always meet your date at the door
Keep your hands up. Hit the body. Punch in combinations.
Never hit a woman. Ever. Never let anyone else do it either
Be cool with younger kids. They'll remember it
Don't be a snob
Know the guys your sister dates. I'll need your opinion.
Spend time with your mother
Have a favorite painting
"Courage is not the lack of fear, it is acting in spite of it." — Mark Twain
Hats and sunglasses come off indoors
Know how to drive stick
Don't personalize your license plates
Keep all promises and commitments
Drive across the country
Know the difference between manners and class
Limit the time you spend in California
Always know the name of your waiter/waitress
To show off and impress are two very different things
Memorize poetry
Learn a foreign language
Go to museums
Be a good wingman
Play hooky
Don't worry about the grade. Concentrate on the comments in red ink.
Listen to Motown
Know the Bill of Rights
Don't be afraid to walk out of a movie
Collect something
Drink the milk from your cereal
Sewing, cooking, cleaning and gardening are not girly
Chewing gum is appropriate less often than you think
Be an expert at something
Thank your mom often
People watch
Have her home by curfew. Call her later.
It's not enough to know your heritage. Honor it.