Blogging My Autobiography - Chapter 23

The eldest son of the eldest son of the eldest son of the eldest son of the eldest son, that’s my boy. Of course he is much more than that but at the beginning, that’s who he was. He was easy from the beginning, in fact almost too easy. Most babies will cry as soon as they exit the birth canal or soon afterwards. Not Andrew, he wouldn’t breathe, just looked around like he had just fallen on to an alien planet and was unsure of the atmosphere. The doctors flipped his feet, whacked his little bum and aspirated his airways, to no avail. He just stared at the aliens and held his breath. He eventually started to turn blue and the medical staff gave him oxygen and he decided to breathe. Even then he didn’t cry, he was still quietly observant. Maybe it was because the labor was so short and relatively relaxed, I don’t know.

As I carried him out of the delivery room I looked down at him and our eyes met. Something flowed between us and I knew he was my son and he seemed to know I was Dad. Too me he seemed to glow and I was amazed at the feeling. We have been close ever since.

Andrew was always wise beyond his years. He talked with relative ease and by the time he was 2 1/2 he could carry a tune very well. He was sensitive to moods and always willing to help. Once when he was about 3 years old, I was sitting in my bedroom feeling like nothing would ever go right. I was out of work, bills were going unpaid and my faith was at an all time low. Andrew crawled up on the bed and said, “Dad do you need a hug?” Of course I did and he wrapped his arms around my neck, squeezing as hard as his little arms could. It was such a warm and loving gesture, I lived on the warmth of that special gesture for months. It gave me hope and made me feel....so good. Thanks, boyo!

If there is one thing I can say about Andrew, it’s that he always rises. He rises to the occasion no matter what. One Sunday in Primary, they were calling kids up to the front to read a scripture or quote. He was maybe 7 at the time. The leader was asking each teacher to pick someone from their class. When his class's turn came, he didn't wait for the teacher, he just walked up to the front, fully confident that he would have been chosen anyway. It made me laugh. Every job he has had, every school he has gone to, he eventually found a way to the front of the class. Now this is not to say that he had it easy or didn’t fail, he did. He just always rose through his talents and calculated use of those talents. He was always the lead in the elementary school play and had his music teacher drinking Andrew Kool-Aid all the time. We only had to step in a couple of times and make sure we dealt with a bullying teacher.

Spirituality as never really an issue, either. When he was about 7 he came to me and said that he knew the Gospel was true. What child does that with such gravity and sincerity? I was frankly taken aback and proud at the same time. When I was that age, I could have cared less. He looked forward to his mission his whole life and while there, amidst some significant adversity, rose to be Zone Leader, for 10 months. He still believes and still serves in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. He is even an Eagle Scout even though he hates camping. I am very proud of that.

We lived in Denver most of Andrew’s childhood. While there, we would go to Nuggets games together, rooting for the home team. We witnessed the greatest comeback in NBA history courtesy of Alex English, Dan Issel and the rest of the team. We would eat nachos and drink root beer and scream until we couldn’t talk. I probably looked forward to those nights more than he did. We are lifelong Denver Broncos fans and bleed orange and blue all season. One of the Denver Broncos from the 80’s lived near us and we saw him a lot at church and violin recitals. This allowed us to “ touch” the team in an unusual way, further cementing our fanship and friendship.

All our lives, we have been friends and that makes me happiest of all. Sure, I was the parent and did what I had to as far as discipline is concerned, but it wasn’t really necessary. He did have trouble with curfew because he is time challenged and wrecked the car a few times (I suspended his insurance and driving privileges for over a year, which cured the accident issue) but what kid doesn’t make mistakes? We were friends enough that he took the discipline well and it made us closer. He couldn’t drive from school to visit so I would go and get him every two weeks. We had 4 hours together in the car where we talked about everything. At some level I was glad he wrecked the cars so we could have that time together, though I expect we would have found other ways to spend time with each other, though we always did.

I could not have asked for a better son.