Fathers, Every Day

Here we are, right in the middle of Father's Day, gifts & cards & hugs given, memories held close, tears shed & I can't help thinking: how do men know how to be fathers?

How do they know how to make a feast of a crisp autumn day, a football game, tomato soup & a grilled cheese sandwich? How do they know how to weave a soft blanket of safety when we sleep in the back seat of the car, purring down the long road home?

How do they sift our own dreams out of our promise to be part of the whole world?

How do they know how to teach us fairness, generosity and patience? How do they know how to reach for our hand and when to let go?

How do they know? I think of the men, the good & the great, in my life & it occurs to me for the first time: they don't. What they know is to love. To love.

They learn, as we all do, along the way.

Every day, all around the world, men become fathers and they will teach their children, one way or another. It's a good time, on Father's Day, to love them, our men - to play with them, to laugh with them, to cry, to plan, to dream adventures. This is what they'll share with their children.

Their children are ours.

You may not remember the time you let me go first. Or the time you dropped back to tell me it wasn't that far to go. Or the time you waited at the crossroads for me to catch up. You may not remember any of those, but I do & this is what I have to say to you:
today, no matter what it takes, we ride home together.

Riding Home

Happy Father's Day, all! Happy Father's Day, Brian.

Love, Cris