A Father's Joy

I had the good fortune to grow up in a loving family. I met a beautiful woman, courted, fell in love, and then we married. We worked on love; we nurtured it and explored it. We became experienced, if not experts, at the tandem journey through life called love.

But, somehow, it felt as if I never really knew love until the day my son was born. As I cradled my firstborn son in my born-again arms, I experienced a tidal wave of love that nearly left me gasping. Agape with awe, I was struck dumb by the sheer profound power of it. After that moment of near transcendent love (which has, in a way, never ended) I again felt that rushing steamroller of boundless love and bottomless devotion when my second son entered the world, filled my hands, and warmed my soul.

Since then, my life has changed in subtle, but fundamental, ways. I am no longer the focus of my own existence. I have been inspired to be better; to be more honorable, more patient, more understanding, more tolerant, more giving. Not that I always succeed, mind you. But I’m inspired to try, at least. The U.S. Army may claim to be able to inspire a man to be all that he can be, but I know better: fatherhood is what really does the trick. Parenting may be frustrating and challenging at times. It may even be exasperating. But the joy it brings far outweighs any negatives.

I am not psychic, clairvoyant, or even particularly intuitive. As a scientist, I’m not even supposed to believe such metaphysical beasts exist. But I’m willing to keep an open mind. In any event, I’ve certainly never believed I possessed any type of sixth sense. But I’ll never forget a particularly powerful dream I had, just weeks after the birth of my first son.

We were riding in my car on our way home from daycare, after work. Sitting beside me, my son was somewhat older. We were talking man to man. Just chatting away, talking about anything and everything. I still remember the quality of that ride. It was an ordinary car ride, and we passed the time together in animated conversation.

Of course, at the time, my son was months away from crawling, let alone uttering his first words. So imagine my surprise when I found myself driving my son home from daycare one day after work. Always an inquisitive and thoughtful boy, he peppered me with questions on a wide range of topics. There was nothing childish about our conversation. I spoke to him as if her were an adult; man to man, and I thoroughly enjoyed our conversation.

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