Happy Birthday Christopher

You put the extra in extraordinary.

Christopher at 6 or 7, doing what he does best: being himself.

Some kids learn to blend in.

Christopher learned to stand out — mostly because Nana made sure he knew he could.

One of the clearest memories lives in a picture I came across recently. It was apparently taken by Nana (I surely would have remembered this!)

Christopher in rollerblades, vacuum in hand, gliding across the carpet like a kid who had decided that chores were simply too ordinary to be done on two feet. The vacuum cord snaked behind him, the TV hummed in the background, and Nana — steady, gentle, amused — watched him with that expression she saved just for him.

She didn’t tell him to stop. She didn’t tell him to be careful. She didn’t tell him to “do it the right way.” She just let him be Christopher.

That was, and still is, her gift. She doesn’t just tolerate individuality, she celebrates it. She creates a safe space where imagination isn’t corrected, it’s encouraged. Where quirks aren’t ironed out, they are treasured. Where a boy could rollerblade his way through a chore and feel like he was doing something right. It’s no surprise she’s known as “No rules Nana”.

And that freedom shaped him.

It’s no surprise that the kid who vacuumed on wheels grew into the man who chose a life beneath the surface of the water. Commercial diving isn’t a career you stumble into. It’s a calling for the brave, the focused, the ones who don’t mind doing things most people would never attempt. It’s a path for someone who has always been single‑minded in the best way, someone who knows exactly who he is.

And when he graduated?

He didn’t celebrate with a dinner. He didn’t buy himself a watch. He didn’t take a quiet victory lap. He jumped out of a plane. Because of course he did.

Celebrating graduation from the Diving Academy.

That’s the thread that runs through his life:

He’s a leader. He does things differently. He does things boldly. He does things with a kind of joy that comes from being, well, Christopher.

At 34, he’s still that boy in Nana’s house, the one who turned vacuuming into a performance, who made the ordinary unforgettable, who never once apologized for being exactly himself. Only now he’s a man who carries that same authenticity into every corner of his life.

He’s lived big. He’s lived brave. He’s lived true.

Happy Birthday, Christopher.

May you always have the courage to be yourself. Besides, everyone else is already taken.