pomposity is when you always think you're right...
arrogance is when you know.
i didn't begin to live until i began to love: myself, my wife, my kids. as i think of the times before this, it seems as if i was wandering back and forth, trying to find myself with maps poorly drawn in smudgy pencil.
there are instants when i look at my children, and i see the men they will become. they are handsome, and smart, and funny, and respectful and respected.
in these moments i am open to god, who, oddly enough, still loves me. he and my father are side by side, smiling, proud of me; and i am proud, not of me (i will never not feel like i am faking it and soon someone will out me), but of my incredible children, who make me feel both immense and small at the same time.
today was, barring unforseen complications, no. 2's last day of physical therapy. his occupational therapy will most likely soon draw to a close.
he's been seeing his pt for well over two years. of course, it's business as usual for him, but i've no doubt she went to her office to have a moment, and i know that the only thing keeping me from smiling and bawling at the same time was the public nature of the venue.
i am happy. my kids are getting bigger, growing up. this is so very bittersweet for me. i am so happy, but it hurts so much. why does each one of these little hurdles crossed open me up like a flower to the very nature of god and life and everything so tiny and yet so magnificient and gorgeous and wonderful.
i can still remember sitting in a tiny room at a ronald mcdonald house in albuquerque and staring at the ceiling and telling god we simply couldn't handle another day of bad news. and i remember his reply.
and today, as no. 1 was in his speech therapy, and no. two played with the spiderman swimming goggles his pt had bought him and drank his chocolate milk in the front seat of our car, god poured the sun down on me, and the leaves were greener, and the breeze fresher.
i am amazed: at my kids, but most importantly, with myself. each time i think i've fucked the whole rig up, and should quit while i'm ahead, i am reminded of the bigger picture.
and this bigger picture is a beautiful fucking masterpiece, o my patient and sympathetic non-existant readers, with the sun shining, and kids playing with a ball in the background, and somewhere in there, i am sitting; crying and laughing at the same time, and smirking my silly smirk, and cocking my eyebrow, and my kids are sitting with me, but fully grown at the same time, and with kids of their own who are also handsome, and smart, and funny, and respectful and respected.
and all the stupid shit that seems so fucking important in the moment melts away like a monet background and only beauty and happiness and love remain for eternity.
daddy, why you crying?
how odd, then, to answer, "cause daddy is so happy, buddy."
darth sardonic
i didn't begin to live until i began to love: myself, my wife, my kids. as i think of the times before this, it seems as if i was wandering back and forth, trying to find myself with maps poorly drawn in smudgy pencil.
there are instants when i look at my children, and i see the men they will become. they are handsome, and smart, and funny, and respectful and respected.
in these moments i am open to god, who, oddly enough, still loves me. he and my father are side by side, smiling, proud of me; and i am proud, not of me (i will never not feel like i am faking it and soon someone will out me), but of my incredible children, who make me feel both immense and small at the same time.
today was, barring unforseen complications, no. 2's last day of physical therapy. his occupational therapy will most likely soon draw to a close.
he's been seeing his pt for well over two years. of course, it's business as usual for him, but i've no doubt she went to her office to have a moment, and i know that the only thing keeping me from smiling and bawling at the same time was the public nature of the venue.
i am happy. my kids are getting bigger, growing up. this is so very bittersweet for me. i am so happy, but it hurts so much. why does each one of these little hurdles crossed open me up like a flower to the very nature of god and life and everything so tiny and yet so magnificient and gorgeous and wonderful.
i can still remember sitting in a tiny room at a ronald mcdonald house in albuquerque and staring at the ceiling and telling god we simply couldn't handle another day of bad news. and i remember his reply.
and today, as no. 1 was in his speech therapy, and no. two played with the spiderman swimming goggles his pt had bought him and drank his chocolate milk in the front seat of our car, god poured the sun down on me, and the leaves were greener, and the breeze fresher.
i am amazed: at my kids, but most importantly, with myself. each time i think i've fucked the whole rig up, and should quit while i'm ahead, i am reminded of the bigger picture.
and this bigger picture is a beautiful fucking masterpiece, o my patient and sympathetic non-existant readers, with the sun shining, and kids playing with a ball in the background, and somewhere in there, i am sitting; crying and laughing at the same time, and smirking my silly smirk, and cocking my eyebrow, and my kids are sitting with me, but fully grown at the same time, and with kids of their own who are also handsome, and smart, and funny, and respectful and respected.
and all the stupid shit that seems so fucking important in the moment melts away like a monet background and only beauty and happiness and love remain for eternity.
daddy, why you crying?
how odd, then, to answer, "cause daddy is so happy, buddy."
darth sardonic
Labels: attempts at being a dad, bawlbaby, harvey danger, i'm a pansy, my cool kids
posted by darth sardonic at 12:37 PM
6 Comments:
This one spoke to me too, loud! I know this feeling. The day my son won the english prize after years of speech therapy and deafness. Bitter sweet and wonderful.
That brought tears to my eyes...your children are lucky to have a father like you!
Well. Let's virtual hug you, 'cause there is nothing I could say to this beautiful post:
*hug*
I am always struck by how you are such a good guy. Most guys aren't like you. I feel like saying well done - but hey, you're the winner.
Beautiful. Oh if only more people were wise enough to be grateful.. thank you for sharing this, it's really lovely. I must go watch DieHard IV now to round out the morning.
Ahhh, it's all so true though, isn't it? Wonderful and true.
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