6/18 11:24PM- My son is my life. I’m sitting with him on the bed, where I’m sure I’ll be for the rest of the night. As I sit here and look at him, I’m often overcome with such emotion that I feel paralyzed. The love is indescribable. The sorrow I feel for him, I can’t begin to express in written form. He’s an extremely happy kid yet I know he’s missed out on so much. I just want my son to be happy. I know he’s going to experience pain, anger, sorrow, etc. But I want contentment for him. I want him to enjoy life and to experience love, joy, and fulfillment.
I sit with him at night and watch him sleep. I do this often. I ponder life and what his life will be like as he grows older. I think about Christmas’s and how he didn’t understand what was happening. No matter how hard I tried to explain it to him, that magical feeling I had as a child just wasn’t there for him. That creates an extreme sadness within me. I think about birthdays. I think about holidays. I think about the little league games he can’t play in. I think about the millions of times I said, “my childhood was the best days of my life.” I wonder if he will be able to claim the same. This is my only son. He is my life. These are only a fraction of the reasons. He’s my reason for so many things I do everyday – in a sense, he is part of the formless energy that keeps my heart beating.
A smile on his face naturally brings one to mine. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat with him at night, as I watch him sleep, and my eyes begin to water. In fact, that just happened about 90 minutes ago. I love this boy more than anything in the universe and I mean that. I can say, with absolute certainty, that not a day has gone by in the last 2-3 years that he hasn’t heard me say, “Daddy loves you.” Multiple times per day.
He’s my reason. The sleepless nights as I work on my craft. The mental readiness I am preparing for. The will that often feels defeated is violently shoved back into the arena by a simple thought of his smile. He’s the reason I willingly suffer. He’s the reason why that suffering is dealt with internally. He’s the reason I sacrifice. I do it all in hopes that my success will ease any future troubles for him. But most of all, I want my son to be proud of me. I want him to say, “Yeah, that’s my Dad… He may seem like a regular guy but he’s actually a superhero.”
*I wrote that last night as I was sitting on my son’s bedside. I am still in his room with him.
As with many creations – whether it’s a painting by an artist, a song by a musician, a sculpture by a wood-carver, or a piece of writing by a writer – it never truly feels complete or it doesn’t quite capture the true essence of where the inspiration came from. At least this is the case with most of the creative-types I’ve spoken to about this.
This boy is my unconditional one. Given everything I’ve written and everything we’ve gone through – one thing remains. And that one thing is the pursuit of completion. When it’s my time to make the return trip home, the last few miles will be on fumes because I intend to end this journey with nothing left in the tank. Give everything I have – Everyday.
My will is unstoppable. My hunger will never be satisfied. My resilience will be tested – and I will prevail. I fear nothing and I am willing to sacrifice anything to get there.
You’re my best friend, little man.