The Year of the Tiger. It only comes around every 12 years, you know.
It's supposed to be a really auspicious time for Tigers like me (born in '74) to marry, or have kids and basically to do anything of importance or serious significance.
I was in a relationship at the start of the year, and there were all sorts of wedding-y promises. But, I guess the things that I wanted for ME and MY Tiger year weren't what the stars or The Ruler of the Stars had planned for me. I didn't want to hear that my finances would be on shaky ground, or that this wouldn't be my year to find true and lasting love.
When the relationship ended violently and in a blur of confusion, anger and hurt, I thought that The Year had gotten me.
It was over, before it had even started.
I put up the protective barriers around my heart, carefully counted the pennies in my budget and quietly, softly waged my silent war against the stars and their Ruler.
I never thought this would EVER end up being My Year, or that the reason for my happiness would come from such unexpected "little" (?) places.
My best friend, Rachel, had a baby boy this January. Little Delwyn: The sunshiny-est bundle of joy to ever come out of a Winnipeg Winter. And on Sunday Rachel called all the way from Canada to ask if I'd be his Godmother. Me.
See, his folks have chosen two people in Canada to be the primary/local Godparents, and then one from the Philippines (where the dad's family is from) and little old me to be the International Godparents. Baby D is going to have Godparents on three different continents. Now that's what I call Spiritual Insurance at its finest.
We haven't yet figured out the scientific/IT bit yet on how I'm physically going to be a part of the Baptism (remember my Tiger year has doomed me to 12 months of canned soup and no international air tickets - whatever!), but if Neil Armstrong could send us a message from the moon IN THE SIXTIES, I think I'll figure out a way to let Delwyn know his (International) Godmother loves him and is there every step of the way...
I plan on taking this Godmother thing VERY seriously on a number of levels:
1. As FAIRY Godmother, I plan on granting His Royal Cuteness as many wishes as I possibly can. I'm thinking of getting him a lion cub for his first birthday... Too much?
2. As CATHOLIC Godmother I hope to be a spiritual lighthouse that he can call on at any time in his life when he needs a little guidance to help steer him safely to shore.
3. As SICILIAN Godmother I'm hoping to use my years of training at the gym to "take care of" any kneecaps that might get in the way of my Godchild's happiness... Capiche? (I'm not really Sicilian, but a little poetic license can be allowed on auspicious occasions such as this, I'm sure. For-geddah-bowd-it!)
Being the pretty serious Catholic that I am, I not entirely sure that Rachel and her husband Nestor quite understand how much this means to me and what an honour it is for me to be a part of Delwyn's life in this way. I'm sure that at some point I'll stop getting choked up whenever I think about it, but I'm not sure if that time will be any time soon or even in the next months or so.
However, just to make sure that I didn't get too confident, The Year of the Tiger distracted me long enough, for me to close a ten ton steel gate on my car on Sunday night, coming home from my parents' place.
The door's dented.
But nothing could dent the happiness in my heart.
What a great day to be me.
There he is, the little pudding...