Andrew's Bath

How I accidentally named my brother after a picture book

The voice my father used when he woke me after dark on January 25th, 1986 was the wrong voice.

My father has a particular tone of voice that he uses when he speaks with me - it’s also true when he speaks about me - but it’s a special voice.

This night, he spoke differently. I remember the directness inside of the soft tone. There was urgency, which was uncharacteristic of him as a human. He’s a man who lives a steady, predictable cadence, which is a quite a bit slower than mine. He’s a bird walk, I’m a canter. But that night? That night he was ready to move.

“It’s time,” he said.