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Full-Time Dads;
The Magazine for Caregiver Fathers
Issue 23
I LOVe MY DAD... i Love you To... MY dad is NiCE... You To Eric... MAY MOOR FIELD DAY PARTICPANT... I Love YOU ALOT DAD...
The words of child approaching the end of his first year in school. Wrought with an orange pencil, on a piece of scratch removed from this computer's printer, without any coaching. A piece of paper that will now be filed along with hundreds of others, possibly a thousand, as part of a legacy that will long be remembered.
My son...
...no--our son.
A child brought forth to this world, as the result of a loving relationship, regardless how long it lasted. A life to be cherished, to be nurtured. Something to dwell on a bit, while allowing a smile to come to ones lips. Something to ponder.
As my boy approaches the culmination of his Kindergarten year, his sixth birthday less than two months off, I must think back... and look forward.
I remember oh-so-well, those early days in the high deserts of the Mohave. Alone with him, grasping at something I was far from yet understanding. Changing diapers, playing games, going for walks. Feeding him when he was hungry, caring for him when he was ill. Laughing with him as only a parent can do; gently scolding him when needed, steering him in the appropriate direction. Talking to him of the moon and the stars, of the sun and the clouds. And when it rained, all that mattered was being there...
... just being there.
The years passed--my God, all too quickly. He's grown from a little tot, a cherub, into quite the handsome youth on the verge of boyhood. His laugh's remained with him, throughout the many trials we faced together, and as this year with him now comes to a close, one thing stands paramount:
he's alive and is happy and looks forward to the trip to his mother.
He knows not of anything else, nor should he. Nor will he ever, at least not from me.
His mom awaits, along with the rest of his family. Twenty-six hundred miles distant. And even though this barrier separates them physically, I know that he loves her...
We talk of her often, Eric and I. Of how we weren't happy together, but that we no longer argue and can get along as friends. We talk of his sister, her involvement in karate and other interests, and of the new little brother or sister due early August.
The important things in life.
We talk of his family and all of his friends--how they care and why they share. We talk of his schools, and of his teachers. His mentors, those from whom he still has yet to learn a great deal. We speak a great deal of life, in general terms, and sometimes even narrower topics. And of all the things we talk about most, one thing stands out further from all the rest...
...love.
Eric is a loving child--wouldn't hurt a flea let alone anything else. He even treats each and every one of his possessions with the utmost of care, and can explain with great detail how he came by such and what it means to him. Why just coming in the front door, after returning from school, he noticed that yesterday's thunderstorm overturned the potato plant he's been growing by the side of the entrance. Carefully, ever so gently, he stooped down, righted the seedling, and cautiously replaced the earth that had been dislodged.
Yes, I'm more than just proud of this little boy. And as he continues to grow, as the years pass on by, I pray I remain the parent I've always been. I pray my teachings help in his journey down that long trodden road, each and every individual faces sooner or later. I pray that the world recognizes that which he represents, that he receive the opportunity any sane, normal person should:
That he live in peace and harmony amongst all. To excel at what he'll be best at.
And if I'm very fortunate, he'll become a teacher amongst people. One who'll help others with their problems, one who'll help allow divergence from the pain and grief the all too many of us have so often faced during the course of our lifetimes.
...and in closing, I now reflect upon Eric's very words: "I want to make a book."
This after adding a picture (in crayon) of his dad, mom, sister and him to the very words he began this piece with.
God how I love this little boy...
...God grant that all children and parents be so fortunate.
Jan F. Cohen is the Coparent Outreach Program Coordinator; Area Coordinator, Nassau/Suffolk Counties (Long Island), NY Fathers' Rights and Equalities Exchange
Copyright 1996 Jan Cohen
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