Our first grandchild celebrated his birthday last week. Nolan Mark Thummel is 13 years old. He was born just a few days after my father died. His middle name was my dad’s first name.
On the day Nolan was born my wife Shelley was so excited that while running up the basement stairs she stumbled … breaking two toes. And of course, that’s a story Nolan gets to hear every year on his birthday.
He is now taller than his grandmothers, thin like I was as a boy, really good at baseball and basketball and chess. And yes, he enjoys video games far too much to please his parents.
At the same time, Nolan is a reader. He can often be seen with his nose buried in a book … oblivious to the world around him. I like that.
He’s not a perfect kid. In fact, none of my seven grandchildren is perfect. But they’re all good kids … respectful and kind to others.
Thanks, Nolan … for making it easy and joyful to be a grandfather.
Our thought for today is from Abraham Lincoln:
“I don’t know who my grandfather was; I’m much more concerned to know what his grandson will be.”