Dear Junior,

Interstate highway 29 (I-29) runs north-south from Canada through eastern North Dakota on into South Dakota and dives south through Nebraska. The stretch of road that runs through North Dakota is a desolate stretch that parallels the MN border. Since I’ve been living in M, MN and working at the University in University-town I’ve traversed I-29 often. On this day your Mem and Aunt N accompanied me on the northbound trek. Of course at this time your existence was unknown to us. Our 02 Toyota, Corolla “Lloyd”, yeah sometimes we name our vehicles, was humming along the bleak winter landscape of snow-covered fields and shelter-belts frosted white with a recent snowfall. Christmas music was leaking out of the radio, I love Christmas music and listen to it all year long, N was reading in the backseat, and Mem was chatting to me in the front seat. How can I remember such detail of a mundane drive on a day not notorious for any significant historical or political events? Because my dear grandchild it WAS significant for us, it was the day you came into our lives and changed them, forever. Most human cultures celebrate the significance of a birthday and recognize it as the date when a particular human entered the world. However, what is not usually realized is how, in those nine months of gestation the bonding process between a life in formation and those who love and care about that new life begins. Know my dear grandchild that from the moment your existence was known your were loved, thought about on a daily basis, and brought great excitement and joy to those who loved you.

We weren’t too far along the seventy-mile journey north when your mom called. It was meant as a simple, quick call to confirm that your mom and dad would be coming up the weekend before Christmas to celebrate with us and your great-aunt, Mem’s sister, J. However, when your mom was talking to Mem she let slip that she had a “little surprise” to tell all of us on Sunday. Excited as your mom was it didn’t take too much prompting from your grandmother to get the secret out.  Don’t ask me how, but somehow I knew about you weeks before, Thanksgiving actually. It wasn’t some sort of psychic revelation, you weren’t revealed to me in a dream by an ancestor. It was just a suspicion I had based on some of the conversations we had with your mom and dad when they were over for Thanksgiving. Back in the car, I remember when your mom told Mem about you and she said, “Wow! Are you sure? How far along are you.” Your Aunt N kept saying, “Is M pregnant, is M pregnant?” She was giddy, or so she seemed to me, as she kept trying to grab my cell phone out of Mem’s hand. From that moment on you became part of our lives and began to affect the way we looked at even the simplest things.

When we arrived at Uiversity-town we stopped at Target to buy some supplies. Mem and I bought our first gift for you as we were wandering past the baby section. Not knowing your gender we decided to call you “Junior,” not very creative I know but I wanted to call you something more than “the Baby.” That’s why I’ll be starting each entry to you, “Dear Junior.” That will change in time once your gender and name are revealed and perhaps sooner if we think of a different way to refer to you. As we walked through the baby section our joy and excitement from thinking about you drove us to stop and survey the infant toys and clothes. After careful consideration we settled on a wonderful little wrist rattle that had a little mirror and colors not specific of any gender. Later, while I waited for N in the book and video section (something we do often for a book and video lover like your aunt) I had picked out several books for your parents about child rearing, prenatal care, baby-name books, and educational books for babies and toddlers. How quickly you caused me to look at the world differently.

I must end for now but PLAN to keep this journal going to you for a long time. You see my grandchild, I want you to know your Mem and Pep and how much you are loved and thought about right from Moment One. My father died when I was twelve and my grandfather, my mom’s dad, died when I was fourteen. My other grandfather died before I was even born. There is so much about them I wish I’d known, questions that will never be answered. Of course there is no way I could answer all your questions, and I hope you will have many, many, many questions about all of life’s events including your heritage. There are so many things I want to tell you and know not how long fate may allow me to hang out this time around. So I hope to write to you, share events from my life, memories, and if I can establish the routine continue this journal long after your birth. First bit of insight… why do I refer to your grandmother and I as “Mem” and “Pep?” For me the term grandma and grandpa have the connotation of being old, frumpy, and sedentary. Some people who study human social patterns say that the “Boomer Generation,” that the generation of Mem and I, resist the concept of being old so much that many of our generation seek alternative labels to “grandma” and “grandpa.”  Mem and Pep are short for memere and pepere, which is French-Canadian for grandmother and grandfather. That is what I called my grandparents, “memere and pepere,” I thought it would be cooler to shorten it to Mem and Pep. So there you have it. We shall see if it sticks when you are born.

Until next time dear grandchild… be well, play hard, laugh often and know you are Loved .

Pep