Daddy

My father used to tell me that he would give every last drop of his blood for me, if need be. I always thought that was a little over the top. I did so until that day in July 1990, July 4, to be precise, when I stood in a hospital room in Pasadena staring down at the most amazing thing I had ever seen. Not even 2 feet long, this foreign object looked up into my eyes with a piercing stare and asked me what was going on. And what was going on was that this was my son, my firstborn, whom my wife and I decided to have, and bring to this world, and support and love and adore and do everything in our power to make the most amazing human being. And suddenly I was gripped by the most powerful conclusive grip I could ever imagine, which scrunched my heart, brought sobs to my inner being and completely overwhelmed me. And suddenly I felt wrenching love like I never had before. And I promised to serve this being with all my strength and all my life to my dying breath. No sacrifice would be too big. I, too, would give the last drop of my blood for him, just like my Dad would for me. And suddenly I understood.

Twenty two years have gone by. I had that experience twice again after that. Each time it was different, yet each time was the same. I created the three must amazing individuals ever to have lived. And my passion for my children burns stronger today than it did that first day. I rejoice with their joys. I cry with their sorrows. I would take their sicknesses on myself ten times over if it would relieve them. I just adore them. Not that I have been the perfect father. I’m only human. But I have stopped at nothing to provide in every way for them. And I will continue to do so to my dying breath.

My kids know that. And that makes me happy. They need not worry because as long as I’m alive, they will always have at least me. Good, bad or indifferent, they have me. Always. I don’t want much in return. Just to see them happy and fulfilled. That is enough for me.

When we train kids for life, we tell them to be careful in their relations with the opposite sex because having kids is a huge responsibility. Are they ready for it?

Then I think of my other father. What was it like for him when I was born (again). What did he feel like when he looked into my baby eyes? I guess they had a great big party up there. In fact, I know they did. And does he love me so much that he would give the last drop of his blood for me? Even now? Does he ever.

And what about this responsibility thing? Is he really responsible for me? He says I’m his child, not his grown up kid. I remember with my children. There was very little they could do when they were born. Actually, there was nothing they could do. Nothing at all. Twenty two years later they are still preparing to be ready for life And still need my support. It’s OK. That is how I want it. My heavenly father, my daddy, became responsible for me the day he had me. Responsible to provide for me, to heal me, to shelter me, to love me, to make me happy. I became his helpless child. And he became responsible for me.

What else could I want? He does not need anything from me, not my money (whatever I can claim mine), not my services. He had it all. But he would really like my love. He craves it even. And he would like me to tell you what it’s all about. So here it is. I’m telling you. What more could you ever want? What are you waiting for?