Ironically, someone who has happened to be your uncle is sending you these words, especially now that you are a bit more than 24 hours old! I mean, can’t he hold on and let you enjoy your time here on earth, now that you have arrived — safe and sound?
Too bad, my dear, uncle Siegfred can’t do that: I’m overwhelmed with joy, knowing that you have become part of our family. And words, my dear nephew, are powerful, comforting, therapeutic, and revealing. They make small heaven for me on this earth (I hope you will feel so as well), critically piercing through my heart, nurturing and strengthening my inner being — just like when you were in your mom’s womb when you were “fearfully and wonderfully [being] made.” Therefore, please allow me to talk to you, my dear, telling you what triumphed a few hours before your arrival, throwing at you some thoughts and questions about what I was thinking.
Twenty-four hours ago, you were still in your little world — that world filled with biological chaos, deciding whose ‘ears’ you should take. (I hope you won’t have big pointy ears like mine, which I got from your grandmother.) Or whose facial features you should resemble. (Hopefully, you will look like your handsome father.) Or whose ‘feet’ to have. (Crossing my fingers that ‘you have chosen’ them well so you can be a footballer like your uncle Peter and uncle Siegfred.)
Also, I’m now wondering about something, nephew: What you were doing as the biological clock ticked its last — the cervical contractions and the pain accompanied with it — demanding your mother’s attention, preparing for your coming. Did you give a speech to all the biological processes that sustained you throughout your stay in your deeper, glorious world? Did you express your gratitude to the umbilical cord, connecting you with your mom — that fantastic ‘landline’ that made sure you were intact and got everything you needed to make your appearance in our crazy world? I hope you did, nephew, because gratitude fills the heart of a just man, and through it, you find honor.
Let me tell you something about gratitude.
I got a phone call (our version of the ‘umbilical cord’) from your then soon-to-be-grandmother that your ETA was a matter of hours and no longer days and that we should pray for your mother that you and she collaborate safely in welcoming you to our world. I could feel her voice expressing her belief in her God that all would be well and her excitement that she was to become a grandmother. And there was me, who couldn’t stop thinking about how time flew so fast. That your mother — whom I used to play with, go to school with, and childishly contend with — would receive the highest honor in our human civilization: becoming a mother. And that’s when I couldn’t stop thanking God for His love for us — your new family — that He was going to give you to us.
I was, therefore, thrilled by the prospect of your coming. I stayed awake all night long up to the early morning where I am, waiting for a phone call from your grandmother. And, as you can see, I am a bit impatient; so, I decided to call her and ask: “Is he here already?” She said you were not yet around; perhaps, you were winding up your little speech before coming to this unknown world to you. The one that I am excited to tell you a lot concerning it.
So, you are a boy — obvious. And, let me tell you something about that: it feels good, especially when you fathom what being a boy (or a man, eventually) means. Gone are the days when being born a boy was a privilege. We are now living in an even more sophisticated world, demanding your best self that we, your extended family, will help your parents instill in you. With that thought in mind, I hope you will learn early on how to respect women. To cherish and admire their talents and power. I hope, my dear nephew, that you will be a responsible man — caring for your loved ones, holding those who seem to be falling, and providing for those in need. I hope that you will walk with God, all the days of your life, He who “… will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go…, counsel you with [His] loving eye on you.”
With God’s guidance, His loving eyes looking at and for you can mean a lot of things, my nephew. They could be your parents, your extended family, your teachers, or your mentors. So, this idea demands your humbleness at its best. That ultimate humbleness, which will help you connect and live with people peacefully.
I’m so excited to meet and get to know you more, my dear. So I can have some stories that I will tease you about as you grow up. And, I can’t wait to play football with you and to take you to trial-outs. Or to make you read great literary works by Charles Dickens, E. A. Musiba, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Maya Angelou, and many more great authors, and then talk to you about their elements of style and themes and technicalities. I can’t wait to see you performing in musical concerts, watching you playing that musical instrument(s) of your choice. I can’t wait to hear about your intellectual curiosities, the cool projects you will be undertaking, or the wonderfully written pieces (poems, short stories, and essays) you will be writing. I can’t wait to talk to you about great Biblical stories and teachings, reflecting on their importance in our lives. And, yeah, about your first crush (or, maybe, love), that girl you’ll be fancying: You can hundred percent count on uncle Siegfred in this regard, trust me!
Well, let me put a stop now. I guess it is enough for today — after all, your mom needs to breastfeed you, keeping your intimate connection going.
Enjoy, my dear, and thank you a lot for bringing us so much joy.