Saturday, October 14, 2006

TO BE A SPIKE

Dear Spike:

Today we stood at the place where a nation came together.

On May 10, 1869 the Union Pacific and Central Pacific railroad companies — working together and in competition to lay 1,776 miles of rail that would span the nation — met at Promontory Summit in northern Utah, about two hours northwest of our home in Salt Lake City.

Today, the location where the rail lines met is called Golden Spike National Historic Site.

Yes, it is true. Today we brought Spike to The Spike.

We began calling you Spike in jest — a farcically hooliganish name for someone we expect will, in fact, be a splendidly genteel human being.

But standing at the place where the last, gold-plated spike was driven, (a shot heard ‘round the United States via telegraph message,) connecting our country literally and figuratively, I thought more about the connotations of the word we’ve chosen as your sobriquet pro tempore.

And instead of a joke, I would like to make this name a challenge.

My child, I wish for you to be a spike — firm and determined, holding together the ability of others to travel, to journey, to discover. Connecting. Enabling. Encouraging.

I wish for you to be a spike — an abrupt rise over normalcy. Fleeting against the span of creation, lasting in impact upon your world and the worlds of others.

I wish for you to be a spike — adding flavor, intoxication, to the punch of life. An unexpected but welcome surprise to those who encounter you. Euphoric. Mischievous.

I wish for you to be a spike — an impediment to those who find violence, against humanity and our world, to be a simple or acceptable alternative to compassion. A moderating force against insatiability.

Be sharp. Be strong. Be resilient.

I do not wish for you to bring together a nation. I do not expect you to be resplendent in golden plate.

I only challenge you to know what we all should know: That your place in this world is important, that your life has meaning to yourself, to you family, to your community and to countless others you will never come to know.

And that you should live accordingly.

I wish for you to be a spike.

Love,
dad

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Great blog, Matt. I'm sure that Spike will, indeed, be a spike.
Grandma L.