Picture Commentary

Kaitlin and Jon have officially shared photographs of Silas on social media. Finally!! So, I thought I would share some commentary on some of them…since I have so much to say at this point about this little boy.

This was our first glimpse of him a little after midnight this past Friday evening/Saturday morning. Pam looks overjoyed. I have no idea what my face represents. I don’t remember this reaction, but trust me, I was elated and my heart was beating fast, I do remember that part.

These kids are amazing. Tough. Resilient. Fierce. Loving. Sleep-deprived. Overwhelmed. Determined. In love. Now, as soon as things calm down a little we’re gonna have to see about having that medical device removed from Jon’s forearm.

Book Review: The illustrations were fascinating but the plot was a bit thin.

No. He does not have a tail.

Alright, I think I’ve been very patient up to this point, but enough with the pictures already.

He’s Home

Silas came home yesterday. We spent most of the day waiting, straightening up, then waiting some more. We made a trip to the grocery store just as a heavy downpour began to fall. Of course, my wife did her thing…

But in this she received some unexpected help. The woodland theme has dominated Silas’ entry into the world. For one thing, his father is a Park Ranger, but it also happens to be pretty adorable. His nursery looks like a set of Animal Kingdom. So imagine our delight when as we were leaving the house for the grocery store—And this guy paid a serendipitous visit…

Soon after he got home, they sent me on some errands to a Publix on one side of town and a Target on another. When I got back, Pam had ordered Jon and Kaitlin to bed for a nap while she looked after Silas. It was then that I got a turn holding him for almost an hour. He was asleep for most of it, so I just sat there talking to him, singing him some songs and talking nonsense. I had been waiting for this moment for about ten years. I was not prepared for the avalanche of conflicting emotions. On the one hand I was so proud of my kids and their abilities as parents, but on the other hand I wanted to do everything for them, shielding them from the hard parts. 

I am struck by the irony of the fact that I am newly retired, a time when most people reward themselves with new toys and new adventures here there and everywhere—but all I want to do is make sure that this little boy has everything in the world he needs. It’s a foolish wish, not to mention unattainable. He will never have everything he needs. Life doesn’t work that way. He will have struggles in this world. But it’s the struggling that brings growth and inspires accomplishment. Having everything handed to him would ruin him for all time. But where is the line between blessing and spoiling? I guess I’ll figure it out in time.

For now I hold him and watch his little feet kick into the air. I watch his little hands flop around. He is so tiny, remarkably fragile, yet fiery and resilient. Every once in a while he will open his eyes and look around, then fix those beautiful eyes on me. He will stare at me with great intensity. I will say some nonsensical thing in response while I feel my throat tighten. I’m not sure I have ever been this proud of another human being in my life—and he’s done absolutely nothing to deserve it. I love him because of who he is, not what he’s done. I may have finally grasped the concept of grace.

What a Day

We left the house Friday morning at 7:09 headed to Lexington Medical Center in Columbia, SC for the birth of our first grandchild. The trip took a record 7 hours on account of the fact that A.we stopped for a brunch consisting of Bo Bites and dirty rice at Bojangles and B. Several ridiculous traffic backups of no discernible cause. Nevertheless, we made it unscathed and after navigating the Byzantine hallways, elevators and catacombs of this huge and beautiful hospital we finally found the Labor and Delivery waiting room. Thus began a very long, exhausting and exciting wait for Silas Nathaniel Manchester’s entrance into the world.

By 4:30, the decision was made for Pam and I to run by the house, unpack, rest a bit then grab something to eat at a deli right across the street from the hospital. Soon after we arrived back Kaitlin and Jon’s foxhole friends—Matt and Bailey—showed up to sit with me while Pam went back to be with Kaitlin. In so doing, these two incredible people earned full Dunnevant Family membership rights for the rest of their lives. While their incessant badgering about buying a condo down here so we can visit anytime and often was tiresome, they made up for it by laughing at my jokes and watching my favorite “grandfathers behaving inappropriately” videos.

Around 8:00 pm I was starting to get exceedingly antsy. My backside was sore from all the sitting. Matt and Bailey eventually had to leave. I had at this point still not seen my daughter. Pam would send occasional non-specific text updates like, “K doing great. She’s a rock star.” Then I would hear medial jargon concerning levels of effacement and dilation, all of which was supposed to suggest great progress…yet, the hours wore on.

Right across from where I was sitting was this super cool mural that I kept being drawn to…

This thing contained tiny photographs of 15,000 babies. I would go over and stand in front of it in fascinated wonder, each of them a wonder, each a miracle.

Then, suddenly at 10:39 we get a text from Jon—Okay, we are ready for the final leg! Dr. has been called down, so not long now! Kait is doing GREAT. Seven minutes later and only 35 minutes after she began pushing, Silas was born, the doctor having barely enough time to put on her gloves!! Jon sent us a picture of mother and child. We gawked at it, enlarged it a million times, holding our breath.

Finally, a little after midnight, Jon escorted us into the room and we got to hold him for the first time. It was magical and he is perfect.

Pictures have been taken, some of them incredible, but we are keeping them to ourselves until Mom and Dad are ready to share. This is their time, their miracle.

So far this morning Mother and child are doing great. Kaitlin and Jon are both exhausted right now, but clearly overjoyed.

Countdown Week

This is countdown week. Our first grandchild will enter the world any day now. Kaitlin is feeling great but getting nervous—but not nearly as nervous as I am. Every time I walk in the house the first thing I ask Pam is—Heard anything from Kato? At some point today I plan on packing a bag so I’ll be ready when the call comes. The plan is for Pam and I to head down to Columbia as soon as she goes into labor so we will be there when she brings the baby home. In this effort, Pam will be indispensable. I will be worthless since I can offer no practical help to a new mother, I bring no helpful skills to this enterprise other than great enthusiasm, pride and check-writing capability.

In the meantime, we have been introduced to our two summer interns, Adam and Treson, who will be living here for the next eight weeks. The presence of two quite large and ravenous college boys in the house has been a huge blessing since they have distracted me from much of the pre-grandchild angst. Last night there was a third intern at the table for dinner. Feeding young people is one of my wife’s greatest gifts. She will probably spoil them rotten while they are here so apologies to their parents in advance. Of course, Lucy is over the moon to have two new humans around. Just what her ego needs—two more people telling her what a good girl she is. But these two boys are terrific and we are glad to have them. Although, I made the mistake of checking my credit card statement a minute ago. I might have to start one of those GoFundMe pages to pay for groceries.

So, unless Silas Nathaniel arrives early, the plan is for Kaitlin to be induced early this Friday morning. Keep her in your prayers.

How My Mind Works

It’s probably just me. I’m probably the only one who sees it, the only one who can’t stop seeing it. This is the way my mind works. 

This is my view every Sunday morning at Hope Church down in the Lodge. I sit in the same seat every Sunday. No matter what is happening around me I see this dorky little guy—looking at me with that Cheshire Cat grin.

This past Sunday we had the Lord’s Supper. Didn’t matter. There he was, punking me with that smile. If anyone in the know at Hope happens upon this blog would you please tell me what this is and why it is up there? If it’s possible, would it kill you guys to put some tape over that face?

Now, I know what you’re thinking. I should not be so easily distracted. I should be paying better attention to the sermon and the music etc etc…True. But, I’m telling you—that little guy knows stuff!!

Counting the Days

Pam and I finally had our anniversary dinner last night at Perry’s steakhouse. It was our first time dining there but will not be our last. Every single thing was gloriously delicious, from the pork chop bites appetizer to the bananas foster dessert. Perfection. Our server was highly skilled and adorable. The atmosphere of the place was elegant and soothing. The bill was nuts, but this is 2025.

One thing both of us noticed was a bit annoying but not at all surprising anymore. Several men, even older ones who should know better, came to Perry’s Steakhouse dressed in t-shirts, wearing baseball caps—inside. Look, if this were Joey’s Hotdogs that kind of outfit would be fine. But what goes through someone’s head to walk into a first class fine dining establishment sporting a John Deere hat? This is the equivalent of showing up at a funeral wearing flip flops, Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. I am not longing for the days when men wore wool suits to baseball games in July. I realize that with changing times comes changing fashion and for the most part I’m ok with that. I’m glad that people don’t feel they have to wear a three piece suit every time they go to church or the office. But wearing the same clothes you would cut the grass in to a classy restaurant seems lazy and low class to this observer.

—Old Guy Rant Over

As the days on the calendar melt away one by one, I find my thoughts becoming more and more dominated by the pending arrival of my first grandson. He is due in eleven days. Kaitlin sent us pictures of the finished and waiting nursery last night. I actually felt a lump in my throat as I watched the guided tour video she sent. I tried to imagine her sitting in the rocking chair reading a book to him. I pictured him standing up in his crib holding on to the rail. I thought of what it is going to feel like when I hold him for the first time. I have been waiting for these moments for many years. Pam and I talked about it last night at dinner. What was it like when she went into labor with Kaitlin and Patrick? The odd thing was that she couldn’t really remember much about either experience. I remembered even less. All I really remember about it all was how profoundly it changed my life, how my entire life is divided into before I became a father and after I became a father. Maybe it will happen again. All things that happened before I became a grandfather will fade. My new role as Pops will provide me with the juice I need to finish my life well.

Katlin and Jon, like Patrick and Sarah after them, will have it a lot harder than we did, bringing new life into the world. The world is more expensive, more fast paced, less dependable. They will have the added struggle of managing social media and other technologies at odds with raising healthy, well adjusted children. But they will have one advantage that we also had, maybe the best advantage of them all—loving, supportive and devoted grandparents.

FINALLY!!!

Ok…finally, after 3 months of frustration, confusion and much disruption, our kitchen is done. There are still a few things left to clean up and Pam will paint the bare spots over the next few weeks but for the most part, the thing is done.

BEFORE…

AFTER…

This was all Pam. Every decision, every idea, every hard choice was made by her. She would show me something and I would say, “Looks great, Hon.”…and I meant it. Everything looked great compared to what it looked like before. But it would have taken me ten minutes to pick out a backsplash, even less time to pick out door handles. But Pam operates differently than I do. She’s a grinder, a planner, a girl with the mind of an engineer. She agonized over each choice, laid everything out on spreadsheets, drew up lists of pros and cons. But, because she did, it turned out perfectly. 

On the down side…it will now take me at least three months to learn where everything belongs. Probably added fifteen minutes to my job of emptying the dishwasher in the morning, “Sweetie? Where does the carrot-peeler go again?”