Caedmon Comma

Caedmon,

Today I watched you sleeping in my arms. Beneath your closed lids, your eyes moved, painting a dreamscape. What do you dream of?

Dreams feed on the events of our days. But you have only been here for a matter of hours. What do you dream of?

Could it be that your dreams are filled with memories of the days when you lived within your mother. Do you dream of a place, warm and liquid, where the world is at peace and closed? Do you hear the harmonies of the utopia that you came from?

I hope, my son, that your days out here will be full of dreams dreamed and dreams fulfilled.

My Child Comma

I haven't wrote to you in some time. There's a reason - I haven't liked you much lately. Since I last wrote you, I have had trouble sleeping, focusing and I have cycled through some rare emotions.

Everyone tells me how wonderful it is to be a father and that parenthood changes and defines a persons life and reality. They're probably right, but the changes aren't always easy. In recent weeks financial stresses, relational insecurities, and professional frustrations have loomed large. I have found myself awake in the night, unable to sleep and trying not to think of you.

I feel like a damned fool for saying it, but you're going to arrive at a bad time. And I can't help but resent you for it.

It's not your fault, I know. And we'll make it just fine, I know.

But, when the problems are mine, why is it that I flee from you?

My Child Comma

My Child,

These letters have had a tendency to be introspective confessionals for me. I'm sorry for that. I mean, who wants to read that stuff? But, to be honest, I don't know what else to say. I mean, you live inside my wife. How am I supposed to carry on a conversation with you.

You look like a lizard.

Lizards are good for confession.

I had a dream recently and it was kind of about you. I don't often remember my dreams, and when I do they are usually the opposite of profound and involve being interrogated by Captain Crunch.

Anyway, your mother and I have been discussing whether I should be in the room when you're delivered. Honestly, I've been hesitant. To me the whole process seems like a macabre hybrid of deer gutting and baby shower. Just a little bit too weird for your old man. I'm not sure I'll be of much use.

So, I had this dream. In the dream, Keelie went into labor and called me. I was at work, and I told her I'd meet her at the hospital. I knew it would take a while for you to squirt out so I took my time getting there - stopped for coffee.

When I walked into the delivery room you had already arrived.

I awoke with such an intense feeling of disappointment. So, I guess what I'm saying is, I want to be there when you arrive. But, if you don't mind, I'd still like to stop for coffee.

Thanks, Lizard.

My Child Comma

My Child,

I've been getting your room ready. We've painted the walls and are restoring the wood floor. When we pulled the carpet up, and found the floor beneath we were very excited. It was old, but in fairly good condition. I started sanding the floor when I found a lot of spots where furniture had carved wounds into the wood – scrapes, discolorations, and gaps that would need repair. So, I filled the wounds with wood puddy; then I stained the entire floor to cover the discoloration of the mending I had performed. But, you can still see the scrapes, the wounds. They may always be there.

I wonder if our first days will be great. I wonder if there will be days when I am a hero, capable of anything. How disappointing will it be to find my scars one day? I have tried so hard to cover them, but they're there, and they may always be there. Will such blemish merely add dimension to your father, or will they harm you too?

The other night I prayed to God. I asked him to keep me from ever harming you. I prayed to God to keep me from leaving scars.

I prayed for you.

The stain is on the floor, but the polyurethane is not down yet, so it is prone to damage right now. The last time I entered, I took my shoes off, as if I was walking unto holy ground.

Perhaps you are holy. Holy and fragile – prone to pain, scars. Just like your father.

One day, I will sit on this floor and, unashamed I will listen to you say whatever you need to say, and with unhealed hands, I will hold you steady... steady as hands like these can.

Image Source: Deviant Art

Dad Blog

I’ve enjoyed all the thoughts on being a Dad that I’ve had a chance to read on several blogs. I thought I would put together a composite of Dad posts from some of the blogs I frequent. I learn a lot from these posts, and I guess this to say thanks and let’s have some more!

From Conversations About the Kingdom – I appreciate the Shepherd that Jerry is to his Church and his family.

• Stay Here
• Pajamas and Tennis Shoes
• Ambria Faith

From My Perception—Brian enjoys being an agitator, with Seth’s arrival, he will now be agitated!

• Still Speechless
• Be a Man!

From Ranting and Raving—Jay has found the secret to great parenting: making fun of his kids.

• Promises to Mikayla
• Storms
• Trying to Make It Through the Night
• Promises to Emma

From Sojourner—Toby and his kids have been through so much. Somehow he has been able to guide his family through so much. He should write a book.

• Happy Father’s Day
• Dear Josh
• Graduations

From Visions of Time – When Gary’s not cracking a code, he’s learning from his son. Judging from his posts, he has a great teacher.

• …Through the Eyes of Children
• Curiosity
• Genius

My Child Comma

My Child,

I am going to hurt you, I am going to cause you pain. I am going to give you reason to reflect on my remarkable cruelty. I am going to say things into your hearing that you will tell your shocked therapist years later.

I'm just writing to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the unnecessary baggage that I'll heap upon you, and force you to carry on the journey of your choosing.

I hope you carry it better than I have carried mine. I hope you display a zealous strength - a resilience rare and bright.

Just know that parental apologies are rare in the light of day. Beneath the moon, however, as you dream your dreams, I will whisper words that cannot be shouted honestly: "I'm sorry."

There was a time I could move there was a time I could breathe
The crowded spaces filled with angry faces
It didn’t once cross my mind
With paranoia on my heels; Will you love me still
when we awake and see that the sanity has gone from my eyes?

I got secrets from you, you got secrets from me
Because you’re so worried about what I’m gonna to think,
Well I’m worried too
But if love is a game, girl, then you’re gonna win
I’ll spend the rest of my life bringing victory in
If you want me to

- Paranoia in Bb Major
The Avett Brothers

My Child Comma

Like the storied rabbit, I long to be real.

Maybe you will help me with this, for I am threatened by this fever and this fire. The city on seven hills burns as Nero laughs and blames, and I can only watch it slip away.

And I fear that you will be the boy that smooths my velvet, that puts breath in my lungs. I fear you will coax a holy tear down my tattered face. I "fear" because I should be the one teaching you. But, somehow, I think you will teach me far more than I could ever teach you.

And all I can offer you in return, is a home and a heart eager to beat a rhythm of love, lungs eager to breathe; and a tattered, used up velvet touch.

When you enter this world, I will tell you of the storied rabbit, longing to be real.

You are so real to me,
so real...

My Child Comma

My Child,

Today, I was on my way to a coffeeshop when I saw a giant chicken dancing and waving a sign by the side of a road. The coffeeshop I was going to was across the street from the chicken, so I got a good look at the bird. The chicken was holding a sign for a hair salon. I wondered at the absurdity of it.

After ordering a massive cup of Beaners Michigan Cherry, I inquired of the barista on his thoughts about poultry and haircuts and the absurdity of it all. He just shrugged and gave me my change.

My child, your mother and I are bringing you into this world - the only world I have ever known. It is a small, strange world. Here, people in chicken suits advertise haircuts. Here, overqualified baristas shrug at the surreal.

And I wait to welcome you into this world - the only world I have ever known.

My Child Comma

My Child,

I feel like I should apologize. You see, in this - the only reality I have ever known - I have never been a father. I'm still struggling to figure out what the term "Father" means. So, you, my child, are the first child in my reality. That means I am certain to fail, I'm certain to dissapoint. I haven't had any practice. Hopefully, you will find enough grace to allow me to be this first time Father, this bumbling, baffled dad.

You have no idea how intimidating you are. Sometimes I fear that I am yet too adolescent and childish to do you any good. In this, the only reality I've ever known, I've always had a dad of my own. Now, the tables have turned. The questions plague - Am I ready? Can I do this?

But, I'll try... I'll try to make this (the only reality you will ever know) a wonderful, playful, loving joy - an existence bright and beautiful. You deserve it. God help me to give it to you. God help this bumbling, baffled dad to become a Father - capable and caring.

My Child Comma

My Child,

I hope you're alright, because this week your mother had to go through a lot. She had to face some things and do some things that were not easy. Yet, she showed such courage and such fire in this situation, that I beamed in pride... adoration.

Right now, she's sleeping on the couch while I write this. Earlier tonight, we went out and celebrated with a meal and a gift. The gift was a set of earrings for your mom. The earrings were the shape of butterflies, with wings outstretched, as if ready for the wind. We thought these were appropriate, since this week your mom left behind a cocoon of doubt and guilt, with hopes of flight.

My child, one day you're going to have to be brave enough to climb out of a cocoon. One day, you'll need to grow long delicate wings and allow yourself to be lifted on the wind. It is not an easy thing to do - to leave a warm, safe cocoon for all the dangers of flight. But, it has to be done. Because wings are made for flight and flights are made for courage, and courage is something we can all look upon with pride... adoration.

Don't let anyone stop you - especially me.

My Child Comma

My Child,
When I was younger, I loved music so much that I would try and get the music as close to my brain as possible. At that time, radios had headphones, but they were huge monstrosities that looked like a pilot should be wearing them while listening to some mundane instructions from distant voices.

Nonetheless, I would put these headphones on, turn the volume up as much as possible and bask in the melody, the harmony, and the rhythm... the sound of it all. But, full volume and huge headphones weren't enough. So I would reach up, and press the phones against my ears so they were closer, closer to my brain; so that the sound of it was not only part of what I heard, it was all that I heard. I pressed the phones until the music drowned out those mundane instructions from distant voices.

Today, headphones are almost microscopic. A person can be listening to a "nano" music device at full blast and you can hardly tell. But, the music, my child... you should hear the music! It is so full of anger and grace and beauty that I fear, sometimes, that the Earth will burst for want of space.

Will you even enjoy music? Will all that rhythm, fury and sound mean anything to you at all?

Perhaps you enjoy music even now. Some people say that I'm supposed to place those giant headphones on your mother's protruding belly, and let you listen... to beauty. But, I wonder if you can hear your mother's heart - it is so close to you - as it thumps and beats like a drum of flesh. Do you hear the inhale/exhale, liquid melodies of anatomy and grace? Do you hear your mother and I in the night, whispering about you with hushed joy and silent pleasures?

Maybe you will love music, or maybe it will be an escape. Maybe one day, you will press impossibly large headphones against your ears until distant voices fade away. Maybe one of those voices will be mine. But, until then, my child, enjoy this musical time; be enchanted by this symphony somatic. And someday, we will sing
of you
and for you
and with you.

My Child Comma

My Child,

Today your mother was trying to illustrate for me how long you were and that started us into a discussion about the best way to illustrate two and a half inches. Whatever the best way is, you are still very small right now.

And I wonder what it must be like to live a strange small life inside such a one as your mother. She is this startling, wonderful package of laughter and love and whispered beauty. Does that mean that you are floating in all that? How wonderful that must be.

Your mother tells me about how warm and safe it is inside of her - where you live now. And as she tells me this, I can't help but think that it will be warm and safe out here, too. And that is because of your mother.

I read this book, from time to time, that talks about a reality that is safe and warm in a future time, a future world. And I think in that time, we will all be like children again. And I think there, our Mother will surround us with love.

Take up your arm
Sons and daughters
We will arise from the bunkers
By land, by sea, by dirigible
We'll leave our tracks untraceable now

When we arrive
Sons and daughters
We'll make our lives on the water...

Here all the bombs fade away

-The Decemberists
"Sons and Daughters"

My Child Comma

My child,

It snowed so much yesterday. You should have seen it.

You have made your mother very tired lately. She came home yesterday dizzy and badly in need of a rest on the couch. It's good, though - please know that. We are so happy to have your pleasent inconveniences in our life.

I have been learning a lot about myself lately and a lot about what happened to me when I was smaller, when I was younger. And, I've learned that so much of what happened then has made me what i am now. I now know that I learned long ago how to run from the deepest emotions. I ran because my deep emotions were like dark, mysterious caves and when i was younger and smaller I needed to stay away from those caves - those frightening places. But, now your mother gives me so much love and affection that it opens up those deep caves and I try to run and I try to hide and i tis so hard to remember that I am bigger now - I'm older. I can deal with caves now.

My child, when you are in my arms and in my home, I hope my caves and my deep places are open to you.

It snowed so much yesterday. You should have seen it. Pure white snow covered the whole world and made it bright and beautiful.