Any godchild of mine is preordained to cause a commotion at any given church ceremony, and as a former altar boy who was subjected to the rigors of a strict Catholic upbringing, I’m all for conjuring an unforgettable religious experience.
It was a beautiful day near the end of May on which our family had Jaxon baptized, with a strong show of sunshine, warm temperatures, and the promise of summer in the air. By all estimations he behaved remarkably well – didn’t cry at all when the water and oil went all over his head. The deacon’s behavior was another story altogether, but that’s a tale for another time, maybe when Jaxon gets confirmed, and it made for the unforgettable aspect of the day.
More than anything else, it felt like this day was a chance for Jaxon to be given his first choice at a spiritual path, offering the tenets of a Christian faith should he one day decide to keep to that road. It was a celebration of joy, and an opportunity for both sides of his family to come together. To that end, it was a resounding and happy success.
Andy expressed consternation at what I might choose to wear to the ceremony, even I understood that this was Jaxon’s day to shine, so I went with a basic linen ensemble for a summer baby, a traditional Barong Tagalog shirt worn at formal Filipino occasions, and a necklace that formed the only bit of ostentatious bling to remind Jaxon that I was still me under all the understated elegance. He’s already bringing out the best in all of us.
