The Moments - Chapter 4: "It Means Daddy"

                Although I write these pieces about “the moments” I share with my son on the basis of concepts, I also began the series intending to give it a certain sequence – building through Joey’s first years in a rough chronological order.  All that said, I’m going off schedule for this one because two of “the moments” occurred over the past weekend, and I just feel like sharing them.  As with so many things Joey says and does, he made think, melted my heart, and made me proud all at once.

                This weekend, my mother (“Mama Tee” to Joey) spent Friday night and most of Saturday with us.  After Joey woke up from a long nap on Saturday, he was full of energy – moving around all the time, jumping and climbing faster than I could follow him.  However, as is now often the case, he caught things we said when we didn’t necessarily notice he was listening.  At one point that afternoon, Mama referred to my full name, Larry Charles.  Upon hearing it, Joey said with a smile in his voice, “No. That’s Daddy.”  Mama explained to him, “Well, yeah. But that’s his full name. Like you’re Joseph Ellis, your Daddy is also Larry Charles. That’s his full name.”  No longer seeming completely focused on the conversation, Joey proceeded to climb on furniture but very matter-of-factly stated, “Uh-huh.  His name Charles.  It mean Daddy.”  I love that!  Between its English, German, and French definitions, Charles actually means “man,” “manly,” or “farmer.”  But, I like the Joey Webster Dictionary definition.  Charles means Daddy.  I’ll stick with that.  For the record, Joseph means “may God give increase” from Hebrew.  My son fits his name well, as he is the greatest increase from God to me.

                As an interesting follow-up to that exchange, Joey and I slightly ventured into a discussion about my “final journey” (such as one can discuss that with a 2-year-old) the next day.  Joey had put one of our Elvis CDs in the player while we were getting ready for church on Sunday morning.  It had run for quite a while and the song “The Impossible Dream” (one of my favorites) is what Elvis was starting to sing as I sat Joey up on the end of our chaise lounge to put on his shoes.  As he often says toward things he knows and things he doesn’t, I heard “What’s that?” come out of his mouth.  Figuring he meant “what song?” I responded, rather than with the title, with “That’s a beautiful old song that I want you to have played at my funeral – Elvis style. Will you do that, son? Will you make sure that song is played at my funeral?” He didn’t miss a beat.  Joey instantly said, “No,” with a smile.  I laughed a little.  “Ok.  Well, what will you have them play at my funeral?”  He put on that coy, cute little grin that is patented Joey Grimes and said, “Wise Men Say.”  That’s his title for “Can’t Help Falling In Love” from the film “Blue Hawaii.”  I’m not sure if that would have a place at a funeral, but I told him he could have them play both.  It may not be time to talk much about how anyone can or should send me off, but I’m sure Joey will send me off like a king.  He already treats me like one far more than I deserve.