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.