Father’s Day Reflection
Since my blog got hijacked for the weekend, I couldn’t post this ’til today. But it’s still mine & it’s still true.
I’ve got a lot of opinions about fatherhood. Professionally, I’ve met a lot of fathers – some good ones, some great ones, some mediocre ones, some bad ones, and often, sadly, a lot of just absent ones.
And personally, as a son with a father and with many friends with many fathers, I’ve formed many opinions about fatherhood. It’s hard not to. And you’ve done it to, so don’t judge me.
I’m sure there have been many days that I’ve thought I had fatherhood figured out.
But on this Father’s day, I’m realizing that the few real lessons I’ve learning about being a father are from one who as of yet has no words to speak, yet who has taught me volumes about being a dad.
She has taught me that fatherhood is yes, about houses and couches and food and other stuff to provide, but is more about being at home and cuddling on the couch and seeing her giggle with her mouth full of oatmeal and the other stuff she provides.
Fatherhood is about waking up at 2am…, or was it 1am today, wait… how long were we up together last night? Sometimes its about us being up together for much longer than I want at that time of day. Other days its about falling asleep together on the couch, you with your pacifier and me with just you in my arms.
Fatherhood is about *smooching sound*, and *zerbert sound*, and *whistling*, and *blowing sound*, even *hocking sound* – whatever makes you laugh at your dad.
Fatherhood is loving the wife you sleep with, or get up in the middle of the night with, or think about all day long, because this little girl needs to know that love isn’t just something given or received, its something we share.
Fatherhood is saying, “yes, just come over” whenever grandma wants to bring strawberries over, ‘cause it doesn’t matter, you just don’t pass up those chances.
Fatherhood is bouncing on the ball with you in my arms, ‘cause…, well it just is.
Fatherhood is about when you could fit in my hand, and then… in one arm, and now you sleep across my lap, and… , how did you get to be so big so fast?
Fatherhood is seeing that funny stretching face and your arms pushed out from your chest in the morning – the morning time when you were supposed to wake up and the sun is actually up, not the morning time when you woke up, which is actually still the middle of the night – and seeing that smile on your face that tells me you have no recollection of the night before.
Fatherhood is whispering when I come home at bed time and you are falling asleep in mami’s arms, since somehow you have bionic ears for daddy’s voice and will giggle if you hear me, even if you’re eyes are closed.
Fatherhood is blowing in your face, seeing you suck in air and wiggle and squirm… and then smile and laugh for me to do it again.
Fatherhood is counting backwards in the day and remembering when I gave you your medicine, or how much you drank of juice from your bottle, or remembering if you pooped today, or whether you made it through therapy without screaming, or if your stomach hurts, or your teeth are sore, or maybe she has a cold…, I’m not sure anymore.
Fatherhood is saying “No, Isa” and watching you suck that beautiful but sad “puchera” back in to a mere wimper… and wanting to laugh,… but needing to stay strong for the moment.
Fatherhood is seeing you snort & kick & shift your body side to side when your laughing and laughing and giggling and chorting and laughing some more.
Fatherhood is tossing you in the air or dropping you down between my legs, seeing you squint your eyes on the way down, and then break out a big smile when you are secure on my shoulder again.
Fatherhood is saying “I love you” and “You can do it, I believe in you” and “Head up, that’s right, head up Isa” ‘cause you just need me to be a cheerleader and your #1 fan.
Fatherhood is about a few of these things, and knowing that it doesn’t really matter what other father’s are like or opinions I’ve had, its about me & you & your life & the man your making me into & the precious gift that you are everyday. So Thank you Isa for the gift of fatherhood.
