Father's Day

This is my first Father's Day. The only presents Sophia gives me are full diapers, and a beautiful smile. Eventually, my refrigerator will be covered with notes to Daddy, and colored pages of princesses and ponies, but for now it is bare. The only thing I can share with Sophia right now are baby secrets. What I mean by this is that any experience with a baby is a personal one. There is only one interpretation of what Sophia is thinking, and for now that is the interpretation of the person she is interacting with. You look for visual cues she hasn't learned yet and decide what she is feeling. When something magical happens, like a smile, you can only tell people "Sophia smiled at me." While this is certainly not a miraculous occurence, I am here to tell you as I approach my first Father's Day as a father, that every coo, smile, giggle, hiccough, stretch, nuzzle, and cry is a miracle. This must be the first inkling of a father's joy. I'm sure there will be more trying times in the years to come, but for now I can't help but be swallowed up in the idealism and sheer wonder of having a beautiful, healthy daughter

It just so happens that I have a father too. I've always been able to feel his respect; that might sound funny, but I could always feel his belief in the potential of his children. This may have lead to struggles of focus, direction, or conviction, but in the end I was made stronger. Sure, I could look back and criticize portions of my upbringing, but the viewpoint of a teenager is hardly an impartial judge of how to raise a child, and sadly my memories were filtered through that teenage viewpoint. I can only comment on the results of that upbringing, and I am proud of who he helped me become. I am proud of my father, and can see his deep love for his children. I can see his deep love for me and I appreciate his guiding words and reassurance. I gave him a picture of his granddaughter for Father's Day. He loved it.

Happy Father's Day Dad.