I Love It When
- My seven year old touches me when he talks to me. He will have his arms around as he tells me a story of the day. He will play with my belt buckle as he carefully explains what it is he wants. He will lie close to me as I read Calvin and Hobbes with him. His eyes touch mine and brighten as I tell him how smart he is when he spells a new word.
- My nine-year-old dances through the room to the music of the moment. She will stop and smile sheepishly when she sees me watching, but happy that I was watching.
- My twelve year old sings his silly songs. They are usually complete nonsense—words that come to his mind at the moment put to some tuneless tune. He sings them when he is happy and I am happy he sings them a lot.
- My fourteen year old talks to me spontaneously. When she breaks through the wall of her teenage angst and tells me things about her life without thinking twice I feel sunshine in the room.
- My sixteen year old tells me stories of her brothers and sisters. In all the colorful details I sense her Godlike awareness of others and great power in her love.
- My three grown sons write me letters sharing with me parts of their lives hidden to the rest of the world. They are adults who still call me “Dad.”
I love it.