What's in a Middle Name?

It will be 5 years Friday since Becky's father Tom passed as the result of a stubborn and aggressive brain tumor.

Tom didn't get a chance to see his little girl get married, but I was able to ask him for his daughter's hand before he left us. Guess I'm old school like that. "We'd love to have you in the family, Chad" he said in his slow, deep, and deliberate tone that was intimidating as hell when I first met him (that and the fact that he stood about 6' 4" and lifted weights on the regular).

He didn't get a chance to share her joy when we found out we were pregnant the first, second, and finally third time, and he wasn't here to comfort her when the first two failed.

He won't get the chance to feel the excitement and pride of seeing his only daughter's son grow and mature like so many fathers do, but as a I sit here and type this through teary eyes, I know that the time that daddy and daughter had together was special to both of them, and that we're doing what we can to ensure that Taylor knows who his grandfather was.

I didn't get a chance to get to know my father-in-law real well, but I wish I had. He was one of the most generous and proud men I've ever met. He displayed a certain kindness that only a man of his stature could get away with. I never once heard him raise his voice, and he was always willing to help us out when we needed it. 

I can only imagine what he really thought about me at first - a skinny, messy-haired kid who his daughter had fallen for, and would seemingly follow to the end of the earth. I can only imagine what he really thought when Becky told him that she was driving 21 hours from Williamsport, PA to New Orleans with this guy who she'd been "dating" for about a month and a half and he'd just met for the first time, but he let us use his credit card to book the hotel. I can only imagine what he thought when his little girl told him that we were selling everything and moving to California, but when everyone else was telling us "see you back here in 6 months", he never said a negative word. He never said anything that made me feel as though he doubted me or my intentions. If it was cool with Beck, it was cool with him, and that's how I know he accepted me.

So what's in a middle name? Mine is the same as my Dad's, and his middle name is a nod to his grandfather Charles, whom to my knowledge I never met. Before Tom passed, to me, a middle name was nothing more than a name that was passed along from generation to generation.

It didn't take long for Becky and I to decide that if we ever had a son, his middle name would be Thomas, so when it came time to start the long debate about first names, his middle name was already in place. 

The name Taylor didn't come into

play right away. In fact, when I was a tenth grade stoner sitting in Astronomy class marveling at the 

cosmos, I'd decided that my first son would be named Rigel - after the brightest star in the constellation Orion. Yeeaaahhhhh. Becky actually agreed to Rigel, and if I hadn't gotten cold feet over such a unique and quite possibly strange first name, we'd probably be complaining that companies don't make personalized Rigel sippy cups or license plates for his first bike.

So that's the story of how Taylor Thomas came to be named. It's much more than an apparent fondness I have for alliteration (Chad Charles and Taylor Thomas, get it?). I want Taylor to feel a stronger connection to his grandfather than he can get from still photos and stories. I want him to know that, even though he'll never get a chance to meet him, that his grandfather is a part of his life, and always will be.

Hopefully he'll ask us one day why his middle name is Thomas, and we'll be able to explain these things to him. And maybe this internet thing will still be around and we'll be able to log onto this blog and read it together.