Dan Morris: The Godfather is in

A few months ago, two of my greatest friends in life surprised me very much by declaring that they wanted me to be one of the godparents to their unborn bambino. 

Surprise is definitely the word; I was flat-out taken aback, and half a second later overwhelmed with some of the purest joy and delight I can ever remember feeling.

Bringing your own child into the world is one thing. You create them, and therefore self-appoint yourself with the responsibility to be their guiding light, their caring hand and their shaping influence. 

To be trusted with that responsibility by another is incredibly humbling and, indeed, a different kind of privilege.

Bouncing bambino was born shortly afterward. At only a couple of months old, he is already far more charming and handsome than his father (though, incidentally, so was my breakfast), and is showing a combination of faith, confidence and cheek that can outshine even that of his mother.

In the weeks since I was chosen for the monumental and beautiful responsibility ahead, I have – aside from working on my Marlon Brando impression – been reflecting on what it will mean.

As I have always been taught to understand, a godfather’s role is to act as a moral touchstone, a supporting voice of wisdom and a ‘safe harbour’ as said godchild makes their way through life.

Traditionally, you become responsible for their spiritual wellbeing by setting a strong and worthy example for them to follow, thereby helping them to cultivate a set of values based on moral fortitude and the nourishment of the soul.

I maintain, to be chosen was a surprise…

In shaping what my approach will be, I’ve been thinking about a few of the world’s more famous godparents.

Sirius Black did a pretty good job for Harry Potter. Though this was after 14 years in the clink, and after being reunited with his charge he didn’t live long for his trouble. Perhaps not the best example to follow.

Dolly Parton on the other hand seems to have done a superb job for Miley Cyrus, undoubtedly guiding her in the biz and helping her on her own way to stardom.

Bryce Dallas Howard also doesn’t seem to have done too bad under the spiritual care of Henry Winkler. But if The Fonz can’t get you into Heaven, who can you trust?

I suppose the real trick – like with parenting – is simply to use your own life experience to help your godbaby grow well and enjoy their formative years, while later on using it to help them navigate the trials and tribulations the grown-up world can bring.

Piece of cake, right? Of course not, yet I suppose that’s where the fun is.

Since I became a parent I have felt the extremes of emotion in a way I never had before. Pride, frustration, anxiety and love have all come in tidal waves I had not previously sailed upon, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Yet if I can help my friends to navigate these exciting yet terrifying waters, while also being a life raft to their incredible son in any storm he may face, the honours of my life will perhaps finally be complete.

So, to my godson-to-be, who, for the purposes of your privacy, we shall name to the readers as ‘Codename: Isambard’, I make this first and sincere promise:

I won’t be there to take all of the ‘tough’ out of life for you. That would make it very dull, and ‘dull’ is one thing I know your inherited character will never, ever put up with.

But I will be there to help you take the tough on yourself with your eyes wide open and your heart beating proudly – just as, in our own way, your mother, your father and I have always done.

You’re off to a great start, kiddo. And it’s going to be a privilege to be along for the ride to come.

To Mummy and Daddy – keepers of the ‘Kingdom’ – I’ll say only this: Thank you for believing in me – touched in the head though you clearly both are.

Now, dear readers, with the Christening approaching, I need to make sure that not only do I act like The Godfather, but, indeed, also look like The Godfather. Tash and tuxedo at the ready, folks – and don’t even think about disrespecting my family, or you’ll be sleeping with the fishes. Wish me luck, everyone…