Every once in awhile, I have one of those unplanned casual conversations that rekindles hope within me for the generations to come. Dubya had invited me to his "Diaper Dudes" party, celebrating the anticipated birth of his first child. The price of admission was a package of diapers. At least that's the common name for them. Most of the guys there had a more earthy name, which shall go unmentioned here. Use your imagination.
Dubya received his moniker back when he was playing guitar in our church band and doing custodial work for us. His given name is Nathan, and his last name began with a "W." Since my son Nathan was already employed at the church as ministry director, someone decided it would be easier to give this Nate a nickname. I can't say for sure that George W. Bush being in office at the time had anything to do with our calling Nate by the same nickname, but through the years, it has stuck. Everyone knows him as Dubya now.
The gathering was simple. Dubya lives in an old farmhouse out in the country outside of Findley Lake. The men who gathered were friends from work, a few relatives and neighbors. Burgers and dogs, soda and suds were the order of the day. It was definitely not a suburban cookout. No one wore Dockers, and most of them arrived in pickup trucks. I had to leave before the bonfire was lit, but not before I had a refreshing conversation with one of Dubya's co-workers. "Red" is a young man who immediately reminded me of that iconic portrait of Van Gogh peering from the canvas with those haunting eyes. He looked as if he could have been the model for that painting. Red was pretty quiet for most of the time I was there, in part due I suspect to his deafness in one ear. That all changed as the two of us stood in the front lawn feeling uncomfortable. I'm not much of a conversationalist, but I was determined to try.
Soon after I arrived, Dubya had introduced us, commenting that Red had six kids. I used that information to initiate a conversation with him, asking their ages. I was curious, as he didn't look old enough to have that many. Turns out, among those six are two sets of twins, neither being identical. I remarked that life must be pretty busy in his household, and commented on how when our youngest left home for college, I had told my wife that we should have had more kids; we had enjoyed so much raising the three we had. I mentioned that if he does his job well when they are young, he'll enjoy them when they're teenagers. I noted how we often spent hours at the dinner table as our boys regaled us with stories of their day.
Red answered that it is amazing to him how few kids actually sit down to a family meal these days, and that his father and grandfather would never have stood for that. In his home, the TV is shut off, and they gather around the table for dinner, just like he was raised. Red and his wife will do OK. With six kids, there are certain to be challenges and heartaches, but if they keep setting the boundaries as they are doing now, and continue taking the time to build into their children, things will turn out all right. I may never meet Red again, but I am grateful tonight to have had a few minutes' conversation together, just to hear a young man who from the looks of things, doesn't have much of this world's goods, but who knows his priorities and is giving his children a heads up in life, simply by investing in them.Thank you, Dubya, for introducing us!
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