It’s quiet here, lately. Partly because I’m busy, mostly because my fatherhood is being spent elsewhere.
This site is a bit of a luxury, as reflection is. Time to ponder and mull and digest, after the fact. But what if the fact is during, now? A long time coming? The freedom to ponder requires resolution, and everything is loose ends at the moment.
Fatherhood lives in the moment. It’s instinctive and reactionary. Spur of the cuff from the hip. No time to think, just do. Diaper, change. Cry, feed. Fall, kiss. Tree, climb. Naughty, step.
Problem, fix. And now.
This site lies between the now, and those gaps can be pretty small. Until this now is then, I’m missing things.
We had a fun Labor Day weekend, but Ian got the short end of the stick. The details are pertinent but irrelevant to the weight of my worry and drooping eyes. I hugged him, and apologized that we…I…didn’t give him much attention during the trip. And he hugged back, fiercely, a hug that looked me in the eyes and he said, ‘That’s okay, Daddy. I’m not mad at you.’
And this boy, who asks your name, who doesn’t push, who waits his turn and then some, who pulls me cheek-to-cheek because the song says so, who says ‘I love you’ to every-friggin’-one and means it, who calls me his best friend, who calls marbles ‘narbles’, whose feelings are bruised but won’t say so is hurting. And I want it to stop.