I am a Godfather, it seems

bride
A bride waits outside the Basilica for her big moment.

FOR THE FIRST time in my life, I have been roped into the role of Godfather.

This is strange due to my not being a Catholic or a Christian or even a believer as they define it. I’ve dodged this job a number of times since moving south many years ago, but I finally got volunteered by my child bride. I don’t recall if she asked me first or not. She likely did due to being a Mexican wife.

They are quite different from Gringas. Better.

While I am the Godfather, she is the Godmother, and she did all the work. I just showed up yesterday and tried to look devout. I was the only Gringo there, so I stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb.

Our guest of honor, our Godson, is the second child of a nephew. The baby, about eight months old, is named Oliver Lobsang if you can believe it. Lobsang is not his last name. It’s his middle name, and Oliver Lobsang doesn’t even like me. He howls when I enter the room. He’s anti-Gringo.

But now I’m his Godfather. Take that, Oliver Lobsang!

When we showed up at the Basilica downtown at 1 p.m., there was lots of activity, mucho money-making on the part of the priests. A little girl was getting what I assumed was her First Communion. Waiting in the wings outside was a bride-to-be. That’s her in the photo. Fewer quesadillas, honeybun.

The Baptism took place in a side chapel, and there were about eight babies being soaked at the same time. God gets assembly lines.

I assumed a sanctified face, exuding spirituality.

The deed being done, we headed nearby to the traditional party. Tacos were served, as was beer, Sprite, Coca-Cola, salty nuts and a big cake. I only stayed an hour because the music was loud, and those things run on forever.

As I stepped out to the cobblestoned street, I heaved my Holiness aside, and headed to the Honda with a smile on my face. I’m a Godfather. I hope Oliver Lobsang doesn’t expect much from me. I was dragooned, amigo.

14 thoughts on “I am a Godfather, it seems

    1. Ray: Nah. Names that appear weird are fairly common down here. What you say is true where you live, but not here. Actually, the kid was named after his uncle, the father’s brother, who died last year of cancer at age 32. He was named Jaime Lobsang, and everyone called him Loby (Low-bee). Some folks in the family are already calling this baby Loby while others, like me, prefer Oliver.

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  1. Love it when you get roped into things by Child Bride!! And the walls didn’t come a’tumbling down. As an aside, I wonder where the name Lobsang originated.

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    1. Peggy: You love my getting roped in? Well, my, my. But you are correct in that the walls remained standing.

      I think my wife told me once where Lobsang comes from, but now I forget. It was a couple of years ago, before the baby was born. We were talking about another relative with that name. One hears lots of names from our indigenous past in these parts, but I don’t think Lobsang is one of them.

      I have no clue why your comments are routinely behind held for moderation. I wish it would stop.

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  2. Mercy sakes, señor, what an interesting life you lead.

    Your good humor shows through on this post as much as I’ve been party to reading your older stuff. I now have a vision of your “devout” look pasted inside my brain forever. And, your good advice to the almost-bride — “fewer quesadillas” — is priceless, not to mention, really good advice. And, to top it off, assembly-line baptisms.

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    1. Ricardo: Never a dull moment for sure. I tried to conjure up a halo above my head during the baptism, but I was unable to pull it off … or put it on, in this case.

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  3. Are those outdoor confessionals behind the fence in the picture of the to-be bride? Maybe drive up? I wonder if you have to say extra Hail Marys to use one.

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    1. Phil: Funny you should notice those. What they are is commercial stands that have stood outside the church patio wall for decades, creating a colossal eyesore. Now and then, some local notable makes noises about clearing them out, but it never happens. I wish it would happen.

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  4. What! No lightning, fires, earthquakes, dogs loving cats, infestations of every type, or even an eclipse? Surely the Big Fella either gave you a pass, or was looking the other way! Congrats! And add another birthday to the calendar!

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    1. Dan: Congrats indeed. But if I added the birthdays of all my Mexican relatives to my calendar, I’d face multiple birthdays on a daily basis. So I just have one birthday there, my wife’s.

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  5. In the olden days there was a need (possibly) for Godparents. Nowadays it’s simply a cash-extracting title geared worse then owning a timeshare condo. I guess the boy could have been named Sue.

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    1. Tancho: Right you are. As I see it, and you too, those padrino and madrina roles simply are ways to get other people to pay for your family stuff, often riotous fiestas. Pure and simple.

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