Reflections on the Fourth

Over this past weekend our country celebrated it's 233rd birthday. We the people of the United States of America celebrated in a variety of ways.

Many flocked to the beaches along our coastlines. Even more celebrated with family or community barbecue cookouts during the day, followed by fireworks displays at night. Our family was no different.

No matter how we celebrated the day, the vast majority of Americans did indeed celebrate in some way. The reasons that we celebrated were many. Some would say that for many, like Christmas, the true meaning of Independence Day has become lost on most people. I don't believe that is so.

As most Americans know and celebrate, Independence Day (or the 'Fourth of July') celebrates that date that the young American colonies declared their independence from the British crown back in 1776. Thus the massive display of the American flag, and of people incorporating the American colors of red, white, and blue into their wardrobes this weekend.

John Adams himself declared: "The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more."

He was off by two days in that letter, written to his wife on July 3rd, 1776, the reason being that Congress debated and revised the original Declaration of Independence after approving it a day earlier. The final version famously lists the July 4th ratification date. The actual signing of the Declaration, famously highlighted by John Hancock's gorgeous signature, happened on August 2nd, 1776.

Babies are Always a Blessing

Christine Veasey at The Vet, September 1980

Yesterday was a very 'baby' day in my life. I was surrounded by them almost everywhere that I went. After going to Sunday Mass we headed down I-95 and across the Walt Whitman Bridge, over to Williamstown, New Jersey and a visit with some of my wife Deb's family.

Her sister, Arlene Clegg, has lived in South Jersey for over a decade now, and she and her family are pretty close with ours. We spend a lot of good times together, from holidays to road trips to simple family gatherings.

We used to live less than a block from one another in the 'old neighborhood' on Huntingdon Street, Leen's husband Jim and I used to play ball both with and against one another in younger days, and Deb was in the room for the birth of both of Leen's kids, daughter Cheri and son Jim. Growing up they were close at different times with my own daughters, Christine, Kelly, and Melissa.

As yesterday proved, those days of us being simply the parents, and them being simply the kids, are now officially over. At Leen's house yesterday we visited not only with the folks already mentioned, but with some new members of the family.

Both Cheri (son Jake) and Jimmy (son Ayden) have had babies within the past two months. Well, actually Jimmy's girlfriend Regina had the baby, but you get the idea. Two new babies to visit at one sitting.

Cheri also had a daughter, Danica, born just under two years ago, so now she has two in diapers. Been there, done that. The babies look great, as most all babies do, and seemed to be pretty healthy, so thank God for that.

Reznor Lydon Lloyd

Welcome to the world, little Reznor Lydon Lloyd, my second grandchild and first grandson. In fact, it is the first boy in the Veasey line since my brother Mike was born way back in 1963, breaking a 45-year old male offspring drought in the family.

His dad, Bill Lloyd, and his Aunt Kelly were there in the delivery room at Hahnemann Hospital to help bring him into the world this afternoon at 12:11pm.

Accepting the idea of such an unusual name was a bit of a challenge at first. As my own dad quizzically but lovingly and comically said to me today after informing him of the name: 'Gimme something that I can work with, Matty'.

But as I sat in the waiting room at the hospital, the name wasn't the least bit important to me. I just wanted a healthy baby with all its parts where they belonged, and for my daughter to come through safely.

All went well, and I was beaming when Bill came out and told me 'It's a boy!' They had intentionally not learned the sex beforehand, so we were all truly getting a surprise there.

'The Rez' as I have already taken to calling him, or 'Rez' for even shorter, was named after his mom and dad's favorite rock star, Trent Reznor. Having your grandson named after a rock star can get you doing a little research. I have heard of the guy, but I have absolutely zero clue about him or his music.

Baptism 9-1-1

It's Sunday once again, so time for the weekly spirituality/religious topic. I hope that you got yourself to Church today. If not, if it's not too late, turn off your computer and get there. But that was last week's topic, let's move on to the new one.

Not the usual subject of conversations, I have amazingly found myself for two straight days now among two different groups of people involved in conversations regarding 'emergency baptism', and these conversations have caused me to look into the facts behind my beliefs.

I suppose those conversations were not too amazing, considering that my eldest daughter is about to give birth to my 2nd grandchild, and that one of my nieces gave birth last year and is about to have her child baptized.

My first grandchild, my granddaughter Elysia, was not formally baptized in Church, despite my wife and I trying to encourage my daughter to do so. She simply feels that it is something that my granddaughter should seek for herself when she gets older, not something that should be 'forced on her' or 'decided for her'.

We love our daughter, and have no choice but to simply agree to disagree. Well, that's really not the only choice. I had heard of 'emergency baptism', the idea that any Christian could baptize someone simply by blessing them with water and saying a prayer over them, as long as the person doing the baptizing was sincere in the danger to the soul of the baptized.

That was how I felt on the day that I was alone with my granddaughter and simply took some tap water, made the sign of the cross on her head and said "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit", held my hand on her head and said a prayer for her. But in the end, is she really now officially baptized?

Happy Thanksgiving to You, Happy Birthday to Me

On this coming Tuesday, I will turn 46 years old. Two days later is Thanksgiving. It is the closest that my birthday ever comes to actually falling on the holiday, which it will never exactly meet.

Thanksgiving is celebrated always on the fourth Thursday in November, and if you do the calculating you will see that the latest that my birth date, the 20th, can fall is on the third Thursday.

Still, with this being my own closest confluence of the two days, which some years is almost a full week apart, it gives me a good opportunity to reflect on what exactly it is for which I am personally thankful.

Sliding towards the back end of my 40’s, with apparently no reversal of this aging process in sight, reflection is something that I find increasingly vital in my life, and here is a sharing of those things.

I am thankful for having a good career that is affording me opportunities and experiences that I could have never imagined as a young man. To tell of all the many exciting, demanding, rewarding experiences that one gathers over almost two decades as a police officer on the streets of a big city would take up volumes. Suffice it to say that they have all contributed to my personal growth and knowledge. For this career I am very thankful.