The other day I read this amazing post on my dear friend’s blog and it inspired me to write this:
Fifth Father’s Day, 2010
On two mornings & one evening,
two Wednesdays & one Saturday,
You held my hands & looked into my eyes
as I pushed our three lovely
daughters into this world.
On a Fall afternoon,
one dreadful Tuesday,
You lowered our dog back into the
Earth & taught our oldest
strengths in loyalty of a wag,
bonds between those who know us best.
In a Thursday’s skinned knee,
a Friday’s wobbly tooth celebration
& a Sunday’s first step, time’s grace
showed us love is all in a day’s work.
One Monday on a vintage motorcycle,
before vows & mortgages,
We dreamed of a sailboat & children
under a fireworks sky.
Our record collection hadn’t yet known
sweetest songs sung: lullabies.
Daddy to three;
Nightmare’s elixir, playtime’s marionette.
In spaces in between a routine,
you’ve taught our middle child how
to hold onto middle ground
when her spirit causes her
to lose her footing.
In a fifth year of Fatherhood, we’ve
welcomed a third daughter.
Thank you for her,
& together, we’re five.
On Sunday, he lied in bed while I wrangled giggly girls and made strong coffee, french omelets, smoothies and sausages. Olive wanted to nurse every time I grabbed the spatula, so breakfast became break-slow.
An hour and a half later, the table was scattered with a feast, crayons and signs proclaiming daddy love.
(At bedtime’s rush the prior evening, Betty and Lucy had stashed art supplies under their pillows for Father’s Day crafting. While we slept with Olive, those two whispered and drew. Lucy made a face picture and wrote her name – a feat thanks to Betty. While I daily nurse, diaper, and cook, Betty teaches Lucy the ABCs. Every once and a while we stumble upon something amazing Lucy knows, thanks to her big sister. That, is a gift in itself. Betty drew a picture of herself with a neck – her last body part to include in her studies of drawing people. She also designed a machine that automatically dusts.)
We packed up and crossed our fingers for the weather to hold.
At Egg lake, seal gray clouds slowly faded with each cast.