Fatherhood - Lucky and Blessed to be Among the Number

    I have two adult children preparing for or en route to go on to bigger and greater things, outside the home. I am happy and proud of them, and I realize that I cannot nor have I been perfect as a dad, but I am hopeful that they have made it thus far with my support and care, and of course the even better constant love, support, and unending work of my wife, their mother. Siblings, aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, associates, church members, schoolteachers and administrators and classmates, extra-curricular leaders and kind neighbors, good citizens across the community and the world... Many good or great influences, en fin.

    Much to be grateful for! So much. Health and mental acuity, love and kindness are all there. The children of my dreams, I cannot ask for more. I can wax prosaic about these things, which by definition is less than. Prosaic is deemed as inferior to poetic, no?

    So here is a poem to my adult kids, my progeny, my pride and joy. Parts of my raison d'etre. 

    Babies they were.

    Babies they grew.

    Near the remaining orange fields of the California valleys they came,

    We brought them to our homes,

    In a small apartment, and later the mother's childhood home.

    The neighborhood of the mother and the grandma.

    We kept moving. 

    South America. The East Coast.

    Virginia DC Suburbs.

    They matriculated and increased

    Made it through schooling and programs...

    Our family stayed close--

    I had to work and travel at times.

    Mom was always there, always constant.

    Time and presence became more elusive,

    As the girls, the children, get older and have more 

    Things to do.

    I worked, 40 hours per week, sometimes more.

    Including my weekends, often enough.

    And missed my share of birthdays.

    Sorry, my girls! I could not always see all the great moments.

    Like high school graduation, 2019.

    Others without kids may not understand. 

    I saw her walk for college, though!

    The distances and times and lapses will grow bigger.

    The book that I wrote for her at five is still unwritten, dreamed of,

    But not acted upon. We thought of finishing it, but that too went into ephemera

    Our relationship is good, we did a trip together.

    Once more in Canada together. 

    I have taken them their twice now.

    I think of things that I did not do, things that I did not provide.

    But I definitely have a wealth of memories to think back on.

    Did I do enough? Did I love enough? Did I work hard enough to provide all the opportunities that a father should?

    I can play games and think of how I have failed, how I have come up short.

    I can be pretty good, which is pretty bad, at that game.

    Remorse and regret can surge up and seem to overwhelm, for sure.

    On a different note, I think of a father and a friend who died last December.

    Estranged from his own daughter. She was 16, they say.

    Mine are adults now, plus a few more.

    I am blessed and quite fortunate.

    Yes, I am blessed and I count my blessings.

    Like memories and the victories of not hurting them too much, 

    But mostly doing the right thing.

    Yes, I am among the good number.

    Fathers need to chalk up all the victories.

    And I do.

    All our children are triumphs.

    Adulthood is no small thing.

    We are grateful for those before us and those that we can bring along.

    Always.