The initial reason we came to Rochester this week was for a wedding, but fate can lead us in unexpected directions. Jaclyn’s grandmother passed away on Thanksgiving, which suddenly meant that this trip was going to involve another, more somber family event.
Miles is a relatively happy kid and he obviously had zero context for what was happening around him, so at the viewing and the ceremony, he was eager to both get attention and play. I hauled him away during the service, doing my best to keep him from the family and let them mourn free of infant interference.
One problem: we were in a mausoleum and it didn’t take long at all for Miles to discover the unique acoustic properties of corridors. Ever since he’s become consciously aware of his voice, Miles has loved hearing his voice echo. As such, the marble walls of the mausoleum provided a great deal of unfortunate entertainment for him. Add in the dazzling, hypnotic stained glass near the entryways, and Miles had possibly found his new favorite playroom.
While the day was melancholy, much of the family has only met Miles for the first time this week. I don’t think it comes from a place of pride at all when I say that Miles lifted the spirits of those around him. There are few things more comforting in times of crisis than a baby’s laughter.*
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 