"Roses are red, violets are blue," Jannie sang in a sweet lilting voice. It was a moment and an image I wouldn't forget. Friends, relatives, and neighbors had begun to arrive for the christening party at our house on Fifth Street. I was in a hugely celebratory mood.

Nana Mama had prepared an amazing meal for the special occasion. There was cilantro-marinated shrimp, roasted mussels, fresh ham, Vidalia onions, and summer squashes. The aroma of chicken with garlic, pork ribs, and four kinds of homemade bread filled the air. I'd even made my specialty that night, my contribution, a creamy cheesecake with fresh raspberries on top.

One of Nana's refrigerator notes was posted on the door of the GE. It read. "There is an incredible amount of magic and feistiness in black men that nobody has been able to wipe out. But everybody has tried." -Toni Morrison." I smiled at the magic and feistiness of my eighty-something-year-old grandmother.

This was so good. Jannie, Damon, little Alex and I were greeting everybody on the front porch as they arrived. Alex was in my arms, and he was a very social little baby. He had happy smiles for everyone, even for my partner, John Sampson, who can scare little kids at first, because he's mammoth and scary.

"The boy obviously likes to party," Sampson observed and grinned broadly.

Alex grinned right back at Two-John, who is six nine and about two hundred fifty pounds.

Sampson reached out and took the baby from me. Alex nearly disappeared in his hands, which are the size of catcher's mitts. Then Sampson laughed and began to talk to the baby in total gibberish.

Christine appeared from the kitchen. She joined the three of us. So far, she and Alex Jr were living apart from us. We hoped they would come join Nana, Damon, Jannie and me in this house. Just one big family. I wanted Christine as my wife, not just a girlfriend. I wanted to wake little Alex in the mornings, then put him to sleep at night.