Being a Dad
Originally posted on June 5, 2007 to AmbassadorKen.blogspot.com for The Blog Exchange program.
In honor of Father’s Day, I decided to write a poem about my experiences. Most are not the norm, others are short melodramatic recounts of what happened and yet others are an edited version of what I was thinking.
Being a Dad
For as long as I can recall, my heart dreamed of having a child,
Not a boy to carry my name but a girl that’s sweet and mild.
Never the fanatic of all the ball games or of tinkering with some cars,
But of lying in a pastel field contently dreaming with the stars.
Then I wed my dearest friend, set off to foreign lands,
To relieve our discontented minds of the work done by our hands.
We worked hard and played a lot and failed a pregnancy or two,
Kept trying to conceive but to no avail, still childless and so blue.
A call came from someone I’d not talked to in years,
Who asked us a question that brought us both to tears.
We accepted her gift of a child, who was as of yet, unborn,
But fear of reprieve of this gift kept us somewhat forlorn.
Til the morning came a boy was born with a medical atrocity,
We welcomed him in our lives, “Still precious.” our philosophy.
He spent a month or more encapsulated in a wall of glass,
To touch him and stroke his face was all that we could ask.
The next few years became a blur as children grow so fast,
From doctor’s care to emergency rooms, it was such a blast,
Skinned knees, daredevil acts like running in front of cars,
Surprises me to this day that I din’t wind up in the bars.
Talks of manners and good conduct and how to treat a lady,
Asking the pastor on Sunday, loudly, about the creation of a baby.
Inquiring to me about Yu Gi Oh and then telling me I’m wrong,
Other quips and foibles that he spoke could be the content of a song.
With all the dangers and death’s close calls experienced by my son,
It’s a wonder he can still breathe, eat, sleep, play or even run.
Still all his pranks and tender hugs, makes me glad that he’s alive.
All this energy and quirkyness packed into a spirited boy of five.
I’m not superdad, the king of the world or a special breed of man,
I’m just a guy who has a son and is doing whatever he can,
To raise my boy in such a way to win the perfect bride,
So he can experience the joys of life with a child at his side.
As I was reading this to my wife and best friend, life happened. My son threw a major screaming tantrum, took off his shirt and whipped it around in circles like he was brandishing a whip and snapped it at my wife. Then proceeded to throw it in the air until it was stuck at the top of a cabinet.
Isn’t being a dad great?!
-D