So, I managed to get all the way until the last day before Jack started running a fever. I have to admit, I’m impressed. Considering his diet has consisted of little more than Pop Rocks, Mountain Dew and Cheerios for 8 days I’ll take this as a testament to the quality of his genes.
Because that’s what Dad’s do, right?
So, here I am. Just one more parent among the masses, trying to do what’s best for my children.
What IS best for my children? That is the question and I find the more I try and answer it the less fun I end up having in parenting. It’s when I sit back and let this carnival ride happen, perhaps every once in a while making sure our belts are still buckled, that I can truly find the balance in life that leads to happiness. This week came and went without incident. Well, almost. The only real thing that happened was that both me and Jack got to grow a little bit more. His growth was more literal. His brain, creating new neural pathways all the time, grasped concepts and laid groundwork for new ones, is truly a wonder to marvel at. I have moments where I just look at him and I know everything that I need to know. I know it’s all going to be okay and that I and my family are wholly taken care of. Me, I was simply able to be here for it all. To put my dad pants on and show up for life, which is a stark contrast to how things used to be. Also, I got to get a bit stronger. Stronger in the knowledge that I can absolutely do this. It’s getting harder and harder to actually have a bad day, despite the best intentions of a Pasadena mother.
All the anxieties and joy that are supposed to be there were. All the ups and downs of a week alone with a two and a half year old. Most with no further explanation needed than: it’s just life. Life and life only.
Today I was talking to a friend, Scott. He is a very important person in my life and helped a great deal early on in helping me find the person I get to be today. I mentioned that I was lucky to have Jack. Scott made sure to meet my eyes and said: “He’s lucky to have you too, George.”
In this life of mine. Being a father. Being a husband. Being an alcoholic in recovery. I take comfort knowing that I don’t require a pat on the back for doing what I’m supposed to do.
It doesn’t make it any less sweet when some one, be it a loved one, a friend, or God, puts a hand on your shoulder and says: “Hey, you’re doing fine, man.”
Thanks for listening to me this stretch, folks. Appreciate all the support and kind words from you all. Be well.