Friday, April 27, 2007

exceedingly often this fatherhood thing has moments of zen of which you never thought existed except for in raindrenched dramas involving insights unknown since subconscious thought orignally buried itself or sitting on a mountain top contemplating existence with a goat named Methuselah. One of said occasions occurred last night. Our little girl was in her crib, it was about 10:30, well time for her to be sleeping, I’d been busy cleaning house doing this that the other, and I went into her room to give her a kiss good night. 5 minutes later, my wife comes into the kitchen while I’m finishing up some dishes and says something to the effect of, “well, she’s out, and I think she was waiting for you to come kiss her good night before she would let herself fall asleep.” And I knew it was true, as I’d had the same impression upon hearing the silence quite quickly enact itself thereafter, and at that moment it felt like the most beautiful thing ever. She'd actually layed there playing with her blue stuffed elephant & staring at her mobile, fighting off the sandman, waiting for Daddy to come say good night, before allowing herself to drift off. My face close to hers, a few comforting words and a kiss good night, those things are so important to her she's hesitant to let a day come to a close without them. It was the most important I could at that moment ever remember feeling, and it left me smiling from ear to ear until I myself closed my eyes and said adios to another click of the calendar.