Not every child is blessed with godparents—people chosen to guide their spiritual journey and, if needed, step in when their parents cannot. I was fortunate to have four godparents, three of whom were my Godfathers. Each of them has since gone home to be with the Lord. I lost the last of them the year I gave birth to my parents’ last grandchild my daughter Ella Grace.
My Godfather James was a U.S. Army veteran, an entrepreneur, and a proud man who deeply loved his family. He was also my mother’s first husband—her first love and, in many ways, her last. My father was her second. Coincidentally, my mom and Godfather were born on the same day, just three years apart.
Before meeting and marrying my Godfather James, my mother had two children. Together, they had three more, but he never treated the first two as anything less than his own. When I was born, he extended that same love to me. Even after he and my mother divorced and moved on to new relationships, their connection remained. My mother was still on his health insurance, which led to an interesting moment at my birth—I was initially recorded as “Baby Medley” before my records were corrected to reflect my true parentage as a “Jefferson.”
Because of the unique bond between my parents and Godfather James, he was given the honor of being one of my godparents. And now, after so much time away from blogging, it feels only right that my return would be to write about him.
As I shared on social media, I will forever be his Baby Girl, and he will always be my Godfather. I love you, GDad! Tell Mommy hello for us!
© 2025, Lela Fagan. All rights reserved.
