Today’s post is a birth announcement.
Luke Christian Andreasen was born at 8:41 a.m. on Tuesday, November 27, 2012 in Okinawa. I learned of it on Monday evening, November 26, in Kansas. Time is not static.
Luke is not my grandson. He is my daughter’s grandson. He is my grandson’s son. He is my grandmother’s great-great-great grandson. Suddenly, I find my place between three generations of ancestors and three generations of descendants. Seven generations.
I remember my grandfather’s father as an old man. His was the first death I remember. He was 96 and I was six when he died.
I remember my grandparents as no particular age at all. I remember my mother as young and harried because she was making a living on the railroad during WWII. Later we became good friends, very good friends.
My children are now adults, and I number them as friends as well as family. My grandchildren are scattered in age from nearly 31 to not quite ten. They are scattered geographically, also, from Florida to Okinawa to Kansas.
My great-grandfather lived twenty miles away, I shared a home with my grandparents and my mother. My children were raised in our household. I have visited my children and grandchildren in Florida, Ohio, Michigan, Colorado and Maine.
I am to this great-grandson what my great-grandfather was to me – a fact, not an influence. Or maybe…