My nephew named his son after my son, James. James the second was born shortly before James I's death.
He is the sweetest kid. He's almost 16, taking driver's ed, doing well in school, nice to his grandma and his mom, just a joy. A great big kid, too, tall and handsome.
So last Sunday his mom and his grandma (my nephew isn't active or near) took James to get his patriarchial blessing. The patriarch set James up in the comfortable hard back chair with the soft insides and placed his hands on the boy's head and began.
My sister sat reverently at this sacred event for her oldest grandchild, head bowed, arms folded, eyes closed. And began to hear a strange sort of wheezing sound as the blessing progressed. She risked a peek around only to see her grandson sound asleep during his blessing, breathing deeply, rythmically. She widened her eyes in ?horror?amusement?--for a few seconds, then watched him jerk awake. She bowed her head again.
After a few more seconds, she heard another sound. Snoring. She peeked again, sure enough, he'd fallen back asleep. This time she just bowed her head back. And heard her daughter-in-law making a strange sound, sort of coughing. She peeked over at Rita, who appeared to be crying, her head bowed, arms folded, eyes closed, sort of folded over into her lap. She felt the spirituality of the moment. . .for a moment. . .until she realized Rita was trying to hold in her guffaws. James slept peacefully through the rest of the blessing and I guess the patriarch never noticed.
Well, they made it through that one. James had a good nap and I guess it was good for everybody. Chris said James was given a wonderful blessing and someday he'll know what it said.