It’s an amazing thing, how fatherhood can give you a sense of deep satisfaction in the potential joy of someone else, how the knowledge that they will have opportunities you never did can be something that brings satisfaction instead of resentment.
Our eldest grandson is now 17 and now no longer sleeps over. However, when he was a wee lad and slept over on the sofa in our master bedroom, one of my fave moments with him was seeing in the morning , just as he waked from sleep. His eyes would open and within a second or two - before looking around or making any eye contact - he would spontaneously break out into the biggest smile. It’s like he was so excited to be beginning another day, no matter what that day held.
I sent your poem to our daughter, his more. She was wiping tears. That waking smile is intrinsic to his very being.
Definitely hard to keep up with, are newborns. Your sleeping schedule will never, ever be the same as it was, I fear. :)
Great tributes shared here—both yours and Coleridge's. Try to enjoy this time as best you can, even among the sleep depravity. Mine's only 6 but I already miss her baby years.
this is so sweet
It’s an amazing thing, how fatherhood can give you a sense of deep satisfaction in the potential joy of someone else, how the knowledge that they will have opportunities you never did can be something that brings satisfaction instead of resentment.
Great work Nick. Neither you nor your son will forget to remember these moments, because you've cast them in stone.
Yeah, a good reminder of a (probably more meaningful) benefit outside of the likes and engagement from the outside.
Our eldest grandson is now 17 and now no longer sleeps over. However, when he was a wee lad and slept over on the sofa in our master bedroom, one of my fave moments with him was seeing in the morning , just as he waked from sleep. His eyes would open and within a second or two - before looking around or making any eye contact - he would spontaneously break out into the biggest smile. It’s like he was so excited to be beginning another day, no matter what that day held.
I sent your poem to our daughter, his more. She was wiping tears. That waking smile is intrinsic to his very being.
Thank you for the story Darrell! I am so happy that you sent it around and that it was appreciated.
Definitely hard to keep up with, are newborns. Your sleeping schedule will never, ever be the same as it was, I fear. :)
Great tributes shared here—both yours and Coleridge's. Try to enjoy this time as best you can, even among the sleep depravity. Mine's only 6 but I already miss her baby years.
Yes, I remember sleep...!
I do enjoy the time, on the whole.
Great words, Nick! This one reminds me of Yeats' "A Prayer for My Son". You're channeling him a bit here and it's brilliant.