I didn't think to write you something until this morning when I woke up late and realized it was late and heard you downstairs feeding pears to our son. I laid there and listened to your
the ones of love, the ones
the way you love us.
It is Sunday, the day of rest, the day that summer
floats like a breeze through the screen;
I feel the comfort in the light comforter as I lay listening
to the sounds of our house.
I rise then to meet you at the table, full of eggs and peppers and coffee, and we laugh
in that morning light like a family.
you tell me you've been up for hours and my heart wells with gratitude and guilt
'it's father's day,' i say, mouth full,
'shouldn't I be taking care of you?'
It feels grown-up and heavy to make my husband feel special
for being The Greatest Dad to Our Son.
But isn't it large? The enomormity
of our newly acquired holiday and what it represents?
It bears the weight of our responsibility
to This One Little Soul.
As the text and calls reach you today, I struggle
with how to express to you how
How can I express to you how impressed I am?
I've known you for so long.
I've loved you for so long.
I've trusted you for so long.
Those arms are my shelter, your chest is my calm center.
But I didn't know you at all
Now I see the father you are,
THE MAN YOU ARE,
and I see the man I want Dax to be.
How could I have known what how big my heart could get?
How could I possibly have known?
In this life
We are Light
so airy and full of space, spacious hearts--
holding each other lightly, tightly, brightly.
It is your day--A Father's Day--A Daddy's Day--
I want to thank you for everything you are.
|Dax and Daddy, Buddies from Day One|