Last week, I wrote about my how teenage son purchased himself a single square foot of land in my ancestral homeland of Scotland for the express purpose of gaining the title “Lord” (or more properly, Laird) so that I would have to address him as such.
It was a fun and funny moment that reminds me of the great joy God has bestowed on me in making me head of a family. I get to see myself in another and he makes me laugh.
This evening, the mailman showed up in the midst of a bunch of work my son and I were doing outside. First, we are blessed to have an old-school mailman – one who knows us and chats with us every day as he makes his rounds. This man, about my age, was clearly raised to live by the same societal norms as I was – a strong work ethic, a friendly demeanor, and the recognition that all we do can be sanctifying if we do it for God. So the mailman showed up and handed me a box that was addressed to my son. I promptly handed it off to him.
Side note: the project we were working on… three years ago my wife bought me the plans to make a Nativity out of plywood. I made one and thought it was “neat”, never being much of a handyman or carpenter before. This city boy learned how to use a jigsaw to make intricate scrolling cuts. In the end it looked beautiful, humble, homemade, and festive. What I did not anticipate was that every year since my wife would pimp me out to make more and more of these thing. I have so far crafted about thirty of them, including the most recent twelve. She sells them on a local Catholic newsgroup. Hey, it is fun even if it is demanding work ripping through multiple sheets of plywood all day.
Back to the story… Son quickly took the box inside and promptly re-emerged to ask if I wanted to open one of my birthday presents early. It’s next week, by the way and I will be “old”. I begged off for a moment. I like to open gifts on the day and not before. But he insisted. So I tore the paper off of the gift.
Don’t you know, the my lad gave me the very same gift I laughed about last week. He bought me a square foot of Scotland. So I am now “Laird/Lord Harvey”. I do believe this is the first instance in recorded heraldry of a son bequeathing his title to his father.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
St. Andrew, pray for us!
Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad 