Hanukkah and Pocket Knives.

When he pulls out that pocket knife I can see the little boy in him. His dad's dad passed away more than 10 years ago and not a week goes by that he doesn't tell me a new story about that man. He gave Jason his beloved pocket knife collection when he passed away. And Jason bought himself a pearl-handled knife to add to the collection a few years ago, a knife so expensive, he says, it would've made his Papa jealous.

Jason knew his grandpa was getting near the end when he was about 15. So he started spending every night he could with him, listening to his stories about farming and the Depression and life.

Adelyn will have two sets of thriving grandparents, a pair of equally thriving great-grandparents and two aunts. And she'll have a myriad stories about the ones she's never met, from a pig farmer who loved pocket knifes to a family of Orthodox Jews.

Jason and I were making latkes for the first night of Hanukkah when he pulled out that pocket knife. And it reminded me just how lucky Adelyn is, coming into a world with such rich stories and histories.

One of the first truly positive thoughts I had about being pregnant was that I could give this child an actual, loving, warm, active extended family. I never had one. It's not a complaint--I was gifted with the two most amazing parents, with whom I share an unwaveringly strong bond. They're not going anywhere. Ever. But I'm sure I'll be giving Adelyn lifelong relationships with a group of incredibly diverse people. There will never be an end to the stories we have to tell her about where she came from.