This morning I watched while you sat on our old couch
The one we got when we first moved in together
as you enjoyed our littlest son
in his stomping
chanting
rhythmic transformation from robot to car to boy
and back again
It is quite a show
I love to see the open joy on your face
The way it washes over you
relaxing everything under your skin
In part, I think it feels so good to understand
the non-accidental way in which we both
learned how to love like this
How to sit
and how to watch
and how to let go
of our youthful misguided longing to be anywhere else
It is a skill
and not a trait
I appreciate the trial and error that landed you here
Along with the reflection you afford me in my own similar arrival
It is, of course, hard to ever know
what you don’t know
and the learning is a beast
Especially in the early days of parenting when
we were at such a loss
with everything
not least of which
how short the windows were.
Retracing the early years with some semblance of experience or
at the very least
some humility of perspective
Is a beautiful thing
It’s like being grandparents but not quite yet.
We still have all of the first hoops to jump through
on the other side of childhood’s divide
Our first
collecting everything
precious
and slowly piling it up at the threshold
Not quite ready to leave
but more ready than you or I
I’ve nothing for which to compare my preparation
for her departure
How does anyone prepare to lose a limb or an organ?
How can I predict function on the other side of such a removal?
I cannot.
All I can do is watch you
enjoy our children and pray
that I have enough wit to somehow
remember these moments
as they stretch
back now over decades
This affection
This delight
This unfiltered pure experience of raising
and loving
all intertwined
imperfect
essential