Tonight I cuddled with James on our hammock under a spider-man blanket. On a clear night you can see a few stars from my back yard; tonight there was a cloud cover reflecting the lights of the city. In years past, I spent many nights on that hammock. I was high, smoking cigarettes and imagining the aliens who lived on planets circling the stars above me. A few times I woke up Ashley so she could join me. She thought I was being a good dad, and begged me later to wake her up more often for midnight snuggles.
I've been researching videos for our Father's Day service. I found this one that struck me with its honesty. It begins by recognizing dads who balance work and family – pretty standard fare. What touched me was that it goes on to honor dads who try not to repeat their fathers' mistakes, and dads whose fathers were absent completely. I began to think of the men in my church, and the messes and heartache they struggle to leave behind.
Read the rest at The Second Road...
2 comments:
heading over there now!
My father came from a time when he was supposed to be unemotional and stern. As of matter of fact, I don't remember one bit of warmth, ever. But he was not an alcoholic (like my real dad, the one that left) or abusive. I turned out OK, but I know to this day he would never tell me that.
Great post, it's much better when kids can know their father's as humans.
Post a Comment