My Son
My son is now 9 weeks old. There are many things I have learned from him already. I guess the first would be to slow down. Every day he learns something new. He finds his hands or his feet. He notices the ceiling fan or the lights; things he has never even seen before, and you can see the amusement and mystery in his eyes. There is still mystery in the little things. Even at my age, there is a vast expanse of time and space and thought that I have yet to explore.
He has taught me fearlessness. I hold the life of a little child in my hands everyday. No experience what-so-ever. No instructions. Only instincts and the acquired ability to read his own little language to guide me. Then he gives me that smile….oh my God that smile. He melts my heart. He brings my whole world to a standstill. Whatever I was doing vanishes because I was either enamored by his expression, or he just made me forget everything except his beautiful little face. No one wants to get up at 5 A.M. to do anything. Yet when he starts to cry and I jump up and pick him up to change and feed him, he gives me that little smile and talks to me with his little noises and I can’t think of anything I would rather do at 5 A.M. than sit in the recliner while we look into each others eyes and probe the depths of our hearts over a warm bottle of formula.
He has taught me patience. There are times when he cries and I have no idea what the problem is. I run through my checklist…food, clean diaper, clean face, warm or cold, clothes, does he want the fan on or no, lights or no, pick him up and carry him or leave him alone…the list goes on and on. When I have exhausted all my efforts and he is still crying, I am at a loss. Saddened by my inability to make him feel better. Hurt that daddy can’t fix it. Frustrated that I can’t figure out what is going on. Astounded that all mom had to do was pick him up…I just did that and it didn’t work. Then sometimes, without me doing anything at all, he stops crying and gets that little smile on his face. What ever it was, he figured it out on his own. There I sit with the realization that I will never be able to fix everything.
He has taught me a different kind of love. The kind of love that says, “I will always be your dad. I will always love you.” Yet with that love comes greater responsibility. Being his daddy means that, although I may be his best friend, I have to teach him right from wrong. I have to teach him responsibility, respect, honesty, hard work, etc. I can’t be his friend all the time. I am his father. I have to help him learn the hard lessons. Sometimes that means letting him learn the hard way…that will be so hard. Knowing he can possibly hurt himself or do the wrong thing and letting him do it any way because that is the only way he will learn it. My parents always told me never to touch the electrical outlets. I knew not to do it but I did it anyway…and never again.
There is so much more to write about. As I learn it, I will write more. Here’s to the future Jayden…thank you for being My Son!
©2010 Brandon W. Crews
