|| A Letter to my Father ||
Do you remember the day you and Mumma discovered my presence in your life? I do. I remember how excited you were. You lifted Mumma up and her instant reaction was, "Be careful, you might hurt the baby".
On that day, a new set of parents were born. Your role as a father came into being. Your excitement was unmatched. But all too soon that excitement was replaced by worry. Would I have ten fingers & ten toes? Would I look like you or Mumma? You were going to spend more hours at work to ensure I went to a good school. Which college would I go to, at home or abroad? Was Mumma eating enough nutritious food? Fish oil? Was my brain developing properly? Would I leave home once I was 18? The questions kept coming...
That night when the nurse put me in your arms, you looked into my eyes and said, "Wow... this is a miracle." Did you see the tears in Mumma's eyes as she watched us? I did.
Today I am five months old. I can hold my head up. I can turn onto my side. I'm learning to sit up straight. I prefer sleeping on my side. I can bite pretty hard now, even if toothless. I am beginning to recognise you.
Have you noticed?
I love my mornings with you. I love sitting on your shoulders and pulling your hair. I love yanking your glasses off. I love it when you tickle my ribs. I love sitting on the driver's seat of our car with you. I love scratching your stubble-face. I love listening to your heart beat when you hold me close. I love it when you kiss me. I love watching 'The Office" with you. I love our veggie shopping trips. I love reading the newspaper with you on Sundays. I love being with you.
When I am a little older, will you play ball with me? Will you teach me how to hold a cricket bat? Will you read to me at bedtime? Will you take me to the zoo? May we watch cartoons together? Will you catch me when I come whizzing down the slide? Will you help me with my homework? Will you drive me to my friend's birthday party?
Will you make the time to grow with me?
You're probably wondering why Mumma can't do all of this. She can. But I want to know you. I want to make my father-son memories. I don't want my daddy to be a stranger to me. I want you to want to be with me. I want us to be special.
I understand that you have to go to work so that we can live comfortably. I understand that you may not tuck me into bed every night. I understand that you may have to work on weekends sometimes. I understand that you want to enjoy your 'alone-time' too. I understand that you won't always have the time for me. I understand. I do.
Do you understand me too?
Life is going to be a roller coaster ride. And I am looking forward to enjoying the journey with you and Mumma perched on either of my sides. We can make it happen.
I love you.
'Motherhood' is only half the song in a child's life. For if motherhood is the music, fatherhood lends the song its lyrics. As much as a child requires his mother to fulfil his everyday needs, she may not necessarily fill in for a father.
In our patriarchal society the father is expected to bring home the bread while the mother brings up the child. The concept of a 'working father' is non-existent, as opposed to that of a 'working mother'. In this rut of working towards a financially secure future, the father often misses out on many a beautiful moments with his child. His first words, his first step, and many more such firsts remain unshared.
But life goes on. And so will the Song For Life.
This post is part of a contest for blogger-mommies brought to us by Women's Web, in association with Mom&Me. Send in your 'special moment' entries at the link below.