Let me begin this by saying that I may, most probably will, make mistakes writing it. Even after over 25 years of writing I misspell words, make grammatical errors and say…words…wrong. I grew up in small Texas towns, and I use a lot of Texas slang and euphemisms. Basically, I tend to butcher the English language.

My life mirrors my writing. I am flawed. Deeply so at times, maybe most times. I say and do the wrong things. I am rough, and sometimes gruff. I can be a hard man. I have a sharp wit, a sharp edge and extremely rough soft spots. I have been called a Redneck (mostly by my wife). I enjoy the fact that my roots go back to the Vikings. I have a pretty notable 1800’s bank and train robber in my family line.

I too can be gentle, and my heart and my feelings get hurt just like everyone else’s, maybe even more so. But I was taught not to show it. I was taught not to cry, but I do. Not to show weakness, but I do. I never saw this in my father. I wanted to be like him just as much as I did not want my son to be like me.

I am, in a word, imperfect.

But this morning I saw perfection.

I have seen it before, but allowed myself to forget it. Allowed life to drum the beauty of perfection out of me and make me forget.

I think I saw it first in my nephew Cameron. He was the first child born that I was close to. He, in fact, taught me something about being a father before I was. He is now a father, and I have seen perfection in his first born, and more recently his new born twins.

Then I got to see it in my son when he was born, and because he was part of me it was a different kind of perfect. But over the years I was far too hard on him. I could not see it, but I was broken and was not the father I now wish I had been. I am sorry for that son. Lucas, you have made me more proud than you could ever imagine. You are better than I could have made you and in spite of me.

I got to see perfection next in my twin niece and nephew. Hannah stole my heart, and we have always had a special bond that only she and I really understand. Hayden started off rough. He was the outlier, the one that was like no one else. Unique, and that uniqueness chiseled him into the incredible man he is today. He and I are bikers, and we have a bikers bond. Both have a very special place in my heart.

Then my baby came along. My heart and my frustration. My little girl Shelby taught, or tried to teach, me how to be gentle. I was not always, and so she and I had our distances. Our “we don’t understand each other”, our “I can’t see or look at life like you do”, and she taught me how to see life differently. She has had to continue to teach me.

In between these there are others in the family, but these were the bundles of perfection I saw almost daily while I tried to perfect my life, which I did through working too much and being with them too little. I let life get in the way and then life sanded off the knowledge of the perfection they were and I forgot.

This morning at 12:15 Oliver Wilson Boles, my first grandchild came into this world, hard. My daughter went into labor, effectively, at 4am the previous morning, and then spent the day allowing Oliver to decide when he would show up. I would have loved for her delivery to be easier, but she gave me two gifts, Oliver of course, and the fact that coming at 15 minutes after midnight he was born on my 59th birthday. What an incredible present!

So, because of the pandemic we could not be at the hospital with them. So this morning we are beginning to get pictures and video’s of his first moments.

And this is where God pushed life back, shoved it out of my face and out of my mind, and showed me the perfection I had forgotten. He gave me a fresh glimpse of what I had lost and life had sanded off one me. He once again showed me perfection.

Now, I get it, especially being a first time grandparent. We are supposed to gush over our grandchildren. We are supposed to pass around cigars (yea I am that old), show pictures and videos until people are sick to death of hearing about our new bundle of joy. If you are my friend, just suck it up and deal with it. I suffered through yours, so now you are going to suffer through mine! And we are both going to be better for it.

So yes, I am a proud Pop Pop (my selected grandpa name) but more importantly, God is giving me a fresh perspective on life through my grandchild. A fresh view of the world around me, and I think He is trying to tell me to slow down and do not miss this last part of what He has give me to live out my remaining days. Oliver is a gift to my daughter and her husband, but he too is a gift to my wife and I. A continuation of life. The next phase.

It is so easy to just let our imperfect lives take the front seat. We drive down the road of life and ultimately decide to climb over and let life drive. We find we are just along for the ride, and no longer steering the car but are being carried along, recklessly, through this life without a hand on the wheel. Then we find we are many miles and many years down the road, and we can’t remember even being awake for large portions of the ride. We were just a passenger to our own journey. We have not only forgotten the moments of perfection, we have completely missed some.

Perfection in life may be fleeting, but if we will take the time to recognize it and take time for it, we can begin to foster a life where perfection is allowed to exist and even remembered.

I certainly will not soon forget the perfection of this morning.