The Namesake

When I was growing up, I had certain people in my life who took a serious investment in my happiness. I would call these people friends, but in many ways they feel more like family since they have been around for so long. In 2000, this couple became pregnant and despite being significantly close to the due date, they traveled to a basketball game that I was playing in (in Montana in the winter) to catch up, take me to dinner, and notify me that they were planning on naming their unborn son after me. As a then-18 year old, I hardly grasped the significance of their gesture, and simply told them that I was honored that they would think to do so.

Now, more than eight years has passed, and today is my namesake's birthday. I had the chance to get together with him over the summer to waterfight, shoot some hoops and in general learn about what a wonderful kid he is becoming. Utterly cerebral, he promises to be something truly amazing in the future, an engineer perhaps. He also has a gentle spirit with a rhetorician's guile, not to mention a jumpshot that would make most kids his age jealous.

I always blush when his parents say that they hope he turns out to be half the man I am (becoming). Although it is an amazing and kind gesture, I think, what a gift to be symbolically connected to someone whom you admire at age 8, someone who you hope your son turns out to be like. To put it somewhat differently, in naming him after me, his parents meant to honor me, but I am finding that as this young boy grows up, I am honored to be attached to him.

This post, then, is meant as a touchstone for him. Something to read now look back upon later so that he knows he was loved in more ways than he probably could understand at the time. That is how reflect now on his parents, and someday I hope he thinks of me in a similar way.

Happy birthday, lil' K. We love you so much.