I'm fortunate-- and I mean that in the most literal use of the phrase-- I'm fortunate to have two healthy children, one an adult, and one a child. Funny thing is, in this day and age, there's not much in the way of children anymore. They come into this world all bundled and tiny and delicate and, 10 years later they're "kiddults." Still kids but, with phone in hand, very much savvy in this hell hole of a world. And of course, needless to say, still in need of a steady source of parental income.
The photo above is of my son in his "office." Somehow I thought it a good idea to pick up a 1958 MGA a few weeks ago. While it sat in the garage waiting to be hauled over to a shop that actually knows how to work on such mechanical antiques, Evan found that the driver's seat suited him just fine. So he would sit there for a half hour or so and play Minecraft on his phone. Every chance he had he would retreat to, what he called, "his office" parked there in the garage.
As a parent I look at this photo, this image of a handsome boy of ten, sitting behind the wheel of a classic antique British sports car and all I can think is: Where is he headed? We all have these questions, any of us who are conscientious caring parents, concerned fathers. What lies on the road ahead? Will he drive or will he be simply a passenger? Will he race carelessly or will he enjoy the ride and respect the road?
As fathers, as parents, we don't get to make such decisions; we don't get to pick. Much like our children who also didn't get to pick. We decide to bring them to life, to bring them into this crazy world. And then, all we can do is love them, nourish them in every way, and plop them down in the driver's seat. And then-- hope to God we've filled the tank with gas. Hope they know to fasten their seatbelt. And, most importantly, hope they're pointed in the right direction. That's what we do; what we hope for, what we dream about as that tiny babe comes into this world.
Happy Father's Day.
No comments:
Post a Comment