What a day! We are thrilled to announce the birth of our 3rd son...
Cooper Ernest Thompson was born at 11:57 a.m. Thursday at Methodist Hospital in San Antonio. He weighed a hefty 9 lbs. 10 oz. and was 21.75 in. long.
I present a photo montage to recap the day on my YouTube page. (I’ve tried to keep the slimy/grimy newborn pics to a minimum. Most are of my beautiful wife.)
I also include below a eulogy that I gave at my grandfather’s funeral two years ago this week. Cooper shares his name today. (The photo is of granddad with my nephew, Jackson, in 2005.)
We look forward to your getting to meet Cooper - and catch up with Preston & Lincoln - soon.
Love,
Kevin
Ernest Sylvester Hood (1917 – 2006)
Granddad passed away Tuesday. Sad end to a good life. He was a selfless man. Some thought to a fault. He died with nothing but a dog to his name and that was fine with him. He was not big on desires, expectations or dreams. He was content with a piece of bread soaked in a glass of milk. But he was big on love, kindness and generosity. I told a lady just yesterday that my mom taught elementary school for thirty years. She said, “Well, then you know what it means to cut and glue and prepare lesson materials.” I just smiled and thought to myself, “No, I really don’t. Granddad would do all that.” There was never a chore too lowly for him, though he’d sometimes give a grunt when mom would ask him to hang out the clothes.
There was nothing grandiose about granddad. But I think that is what made him so special. It’s the everyday things that I’ll treasure. That’s all there were to treasure. A slow ride on a warm day in a dangerously compact car. A slow walk up a tall hill with a dangerously obese dog. A long sit on a porch swing near the close of a sunny day. Yea, if there is anything I could learn from Ern, if there is anything I need to learn, it’s to take it easy. That’s what he’d always tell me as I took off for here or there. “You be careful and take it easy now. You hear?”
He definitely practiced what he preached. I can’t recall a single time that Granddad was in a hurry. He had everything he needed. What was there to rush for? He had his 2-day old bread, his 5-cents off gasoline, his 5-dollar barber college haircut. He had a TV, TBS and as much Atlanta Braves baseball as anyone. He had a freezer full of “hunkies” and a fridge full of “Major Mints.” There are a lot of worse ways a kid could spend a lazy, humid summer night.
I guess it was the Braves that brought out the worst in Granddad. Nothing could make him more cynical more quickly than the Braves pitching staff. Smoltz, Glavine, Maddox. These were some of the greatest pitchers the game has ever known, but they couldn’t ever seem to do anything right by Granddad’s standards. Maybe he did have high expectations after all.
The little things made him happy: 650 WSM playing in the dark on a dusty clock radio, a collection of writing pens, the newspaper, a Billy Graham special, being left alone. Some things made him mad: cold weather, taking a bath, going out in public. Every ounce of introversion in me surely came from Granddad.
He didn’t speak much, but when he did it was usually witty. The concept of “JK” came easy to him. He would often ask me if I was working on my “compooter.” His laugh was contagious. In a world where older people are known for their orneriness, Granddad preferred happiness. “If you want to live a long time,” I’ve heard, “laugh everyday.” Granddad proved it to be true. I’ve also heard that if you want to live a long time, floss everyday. Granddad disproved that. His teeth were a constant source of frustration, but they sure made for easy Christmas gifts. A few boxes of Polident, a few tubes of Fixodent and a few packs of Freedent, and Granddad went home happy.
His tender heart could not find a creature that it would not care for. Birds, cats, a dog with one ear, it didn’t matter. He’d make a home for it. His ubdivision of doghouses on the hillside next to his apartment says it all.
On the surface, some may not call Granddad a spiritual man. But what fruit of the Spirit did he not bear? Love? Joy? Peace? Patience? Kindness? Goodness? Faithfulness? Gentleness? Self-control? He exhibited every one. Now he is with the one whose black and white picture hung in a taped up frame on his apartment wall. And he lives on in us – when we’re satisfied with the simple things, when we laugh about the little things, when we tear up at the slightest thing – yes, he lives on in us.
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