Saturday, June 20, 2009

To My Son And Daughter About Their Fathers:


To you, my boy, I never thought he'd love you like his own.

And do what other children only wished their own fathers would do. That includes reading books about pooping. And reading books to you while you're pooping.

To you, my sweet girl, I never doubted his tenderness, but I never thought he'd be so undaunted.

To you my boy, I never thought he'd be such a wonderful father. And do things with you that he always wanted to do with a boy.


I never thought we'd have each other. And that means all of us.
Some children have no fathers to speak of. And you have two. Very different dads.
One quiet and gentle. One who glides over ice and glides over keys. The other who rocks and dances, and plays and laughs. Squeezing life as if there aren't enough drops. Just one more drop.

You my sweet girl, you have one daddy.
But your dad's love of life, well... it's like having two fathers. And just wait until you're old enough to see him dance. Your brother's dad is not yours to speak of, but maybe sleepovers won't be out of the question when you're older.

As he already said, "She's Jake's sister, after all."
Thank you, men. For being fathers to both of my children. Happy Father's Day.

Now go do your yoga.

3 comments:

Blog Widget by LinkWithin