Happy Birthday to My Goddaughter

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"Where there is love there is life."

Mahatma Gandhi

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Today is my goddaughter Nikki's birthday.

I never married, never had children of my own. I always figured my life was pretty complete as it was.

Until Nikki was born and her parents asked me to be her godfather. That was when I realized just how wrong I was.

In truth, I haven't seen her often. The last time I saw her she was probably 2 or 3 years old. Now she's a mom, with a son who just turned 9 and a daughter who had her first birthday earlier this year (the picture at the top of this post is of Nikki holding Molly shortly after Molly was born).

And I understand now what my parents and grandparents meant when they spoke of how time flies. Where has the time gone?

It was when Randy and Tammy asked me to be Nikki's godfather that I truly understood the meaning of love. I'm not speaking of love in the sense of two sets of glands with tunnelvision for each other and their bodies colliding with the furniture. We all went through that when we were teenagers, right?

No, I'm speaking of the love that parents must feel for their children. I think the best description of that emotion I ever heard was given by Kelsey Grammer on the Frasier show. His producer Roz (Peri Gilpin) had just found out she was pregnant and was freaking out about the responsibility of it all. Frasier told her, "You don't just love your children. You fall in love with them." He told Roz that he didn't know that until he became a parent, but I am proof that you don't have to be a biological parent to feel that.

As I say, I haven't experienced parenthood firsthand, but I know I am capable of feeling what Frasier was talking about — because I have felt it ever since Nikki was born and I became her godfather.

I keep up with her mainly through Facebook these days — although there was a time when I was in the hospital, and after I came home, she sent me an email almost every day. That meant a lot to me then, and it means a lot to me now.

And it made me regret the fact that I missed so much of her life. It couldn't be helped, really. We lived in different states, and I made the mistake of picking a profession that didn't pay very well so I never could afford to visit.

That doesn't keep me from regretting all the things I missed, all the milestones in her life, all the birthdays.

I don't know if I have much wisdom to share, but still I wish I could have been there to at least try to answer her questions as she was figuring things out.

She seems to have figured a lot of things out without much help from me.

And she seems to be doing a great job raising her kids. I always knew she would.

Happy birthday, Nikki. You make me proud every day.

My Goddaughter's Birthday

This is a special day.

Today is my goddaughter Nikki's 25th birthday.

I never had a sister, but I know from my experiences with my mother and my grandmothers that ladies don't like to disclose their ages — so I figure this is probably the last time Nikki will let me get away with that.

But I want to mention it for two reasons really — a person's 25th birthday is an important milestone, one that I want to be sure to observe, and knowing how old she is kind of puts things in perspective.

The year before Nikki was born, her father moved back to the St. Louis area where he had lived as a child. For a long time, he lived in Arkansas, where I grew up and lived until about a year after Nikki was born.

Nikki's father and I were close friends in high school and remained close afterward. We're still close.

And I remember being asked to be Nikki's godfather. I just don't remember when (except in a general sort of way) or how.

Her mother, Tammy, has told me many times that, when she and Randy discussed who should be their daughter's godfather, my name was the only one they considered.

I may have won that election by a landslide, but I was nevertheless humbled by the honor.

A quarter of a century later, I am still humbled by it.

And I suppose the natural inclination would be to assume that the date that I was asked to be her godfather would be one of those dates that lives forever in my memory. But I couldn't tell you what the date was — or even how they asked me, whether it was by letter or by phone.

Perhaps they asked me in person. I made an annual pilgrimage to St. Louis to see the Cardinals play the Dodgers in those days. It may have been on such a visit that they asked me. I really don't remember.

I just remember that it wasn't long after Nikki was born — sometime in the summer of 1987, I guess, maybe later.

I also remember joking with Tammy that I wanted a bumper sticker that said "Ask me about my goddaughter!"

(Actually, I think I was serious about that. Just never found one. Seems to me that you could only find "Baby on board" products in stores at that time.)

And now, she's all grown up with a young son of her own.

I keep up with her life these days via her Facebook status updates. And her mother frequently posts on Facebook about the grandson Nikki gave her.

So I have a pretty good idea of what is happening in their lives.

I never married, never had any children of my own, but I am very proud of Nikki — as proud as I would be, I suppose, if she were my own daughter.

Unfortunately, I only saw Nikki a couple of times when she was still a toddler. I wish I had been around for more of her childhood, but we lived in different states. Even so, she made me proud from a distance, and she makes me proud today.

And so, on this, her special day, I just want to say a few things to her.

Nikki, I love you very much. Each day, you redeem my own existence in ways I never would have imagined. May your life be filled with the same pleasure, wisdom and sense of purpose you have given mine.

Your love for your son reminds me so much of my own mother's love, there are times when I feel that some of her blood must flow through your veins. But maybe that is simply being a mother. Maybe it comes with the territory.

I know that can't explain it entirely, though. Not all mothers are as loving and nurturing as my mother was — and as you clearly are.

You must have inherited that from your own mother. You could not have inherited it from mine.

But that doesn't change how proud I am of who you are.

That will never change.

I hope you have a wonderful birthday and a long and happy life.

And I promise never again to tell anyone how old you are!