Working for the Weekend

I think I've probably mentioned this in another post, but one of the interesting things I've noticed since John Patrick was born is that I really, really look forward to the arrival of the weekend. It's so nice to have Friday night, then two full days to spend with him.

Last weekend, actually, was about as good as it gets. Jude's aunt, Peggy Vicknair, was in town from New Orleans to see a British comedian, Eddie Izzard, perform at the Ryman Friday night. A friend dropped her off at our house after the show and she spent the weekend with us, departing early Monday morning. We don't get to see enough of Peggy, so it was great to have an opportunity to spend time with her. Also, she was able to spend some quality time with John Patrick.

Friday evening, my sister, Tracy Hearn, drove up from her country estate in Franklin. We watched Judd Apatow's "Knocked Up," which she hadn't seen, yet. Jude and I had seen it several times and absolutely love it. The funniest part, though, while we were watching it Friday evening was when my sister laughed so hard, at one point, that she startled John Patrick, who had been sleeping in her lap. He immediately started crying and I couldn't stop laughing as Tracy got more and more flustered.

Saturday morning, I got up early and went to Shelby Bottoms for a trail run. It was a beautiful morning on the Cornelia Fort Trail and I thoroughly enjoyed my 8 mile run. I finished at 8:30 a.m., then met Jude at the tennis courts, where we exchanged John Patrick. Jude played tennis with her girlfriends, while John Patrick and I went to Bongo Java for coffee. At home, I put him in his stroller, while I watered our plants in the front yard (especially my giant, enormous, prodigious tomato plants).

Jude's folks were in town for the weekend, as well, and they picked up barbecue and came over at lunch time. We ate lunch together, then Peggy, Jim and "Mammy" Jane White took John Patrick for a walk while Jude took an afternoon nap. About 5:30 p.m., we drove up to Mirror on 12th Avenue and had a wonderful meal on the patio. Jim White and I took turns strolling John Patrick around the sidewalk, when he began to cry, while the others ate dinner. After sharing a refreshing carafe of Chianti, we returned home.

Sunday morning, Jude and I took John Patrick to church with us at St. Patrick's, where joined our parish in celebrating Father Eric Fowlkes' birthday and the anniversary of his ordination as a priest. He gave an absolutely splendid homily, reminding the congregation that God teaches us not to worry, not to be afraid, but to trust and have faith in Him. Father Eric's words really hit home with our congregation, since so much uncertainty surrounds his departure, next week, from St. Patrick's and the arrival of our new priest. Jude and I looked at each other during the homily and it was all we could do to avoid crying. Father Eric will be missed by all of us whose lives he has touched during his tenure at St. Patrick's.

After the service, Jude and I decided to have a look around, in preparation for John Patrick's christening next Sunday. As we walked back through the sanctuary to leave, Father Eric entered through a side door, on his way to the celebration outside. When he saw us, he stopped Jude to say hello, and I walked up to the front of the sanctuary, carrying John Patrick in his car seat. After Jude and I told him how much we are going to miss him, Father Eric knelt down and peered in at John Patrick, bundled up in his car seat. Quietly, he gave him a blessing, then made the sign of the cross on John Patrick's forehead as he slept. It was such an intimate and emotional moment for Jude and for me.

As he rose and prepared to depart, we thanked Father Eric for agreeing to perform John Patrick's christening next Sunday, during his last church service at St. Patrick's. I had been worried, afraid that we were imposing on Father Eric by asking him to christen John Patrick during what was likely to be a difficult Sunday for him. He immediately put my mind at ease, suggesting to us that he could think of no better way to celebrate his last church service at St. Patrick's . . . an end and a beginning. It has a nice symmetry to it, I suppose. We are so appreciative of Father Eric, because it just wouldn't mean as much to us if any priest other than him were to christen our son.