As I drift in and out of another semiconscious feeding session with Gracey, Tommy reads a few excerpts to me from a book he was given a couple weeks back: “1001 Things It Means to Be a Dad.”
#32. “Being a dad means realizing life doesn’t get any better than this. Ever.”
I look down at her sweet little face and my eyes fill with tears. “Read me a funny one before I start to cry!”
#139. “Being a dad means counting fingers and toes after delivery. Somebody has to.”
We laugh and nod our heads. She was just a few hours old when he counted her fingers and toes. “Yup, they’re all here,” he said.
As some of you may recall, a year ago today I shared the story of my dad. Which means, seven years ago today, he passed away.
When I was young, my dad used to sing me a song … “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are gray …” This past week, I found myself singing the same song to Gracey. (When you have a baby, you sing, even if you … well, Don’t. Sing.) “You’ll never know dear, how much I love you …” … and then, it hit me. At that moment, I knew. I knew how much parents love their children. I knew how much my parents loved me. When he sang the words, I didn’t know the love he felt. Now, when I sing it to her, the love couldn’t be more clear.
Comments