A few years ago, my three-year-old son and I settled in for last stage of his good night routine. It had been a good day for him, he had been very active and had spent a great deal of time in sand and in water. Right now he was tired, and I was as well. We lay down together in his little bed and after a few moments he said, “Daddy, when I get big can I live with you?” I assured him he could live with me any time he wanted to.
A moment later he said, “Dad, when you die you’re going to feel something on your face and it will be me touching your face.” Then he added, “I will kiss you on your cheek.” He moved over, kissed me lightly on cheek and cuddled in next to me.
I was aware of tears suddenly welling up in my eyes and rolling down my cheeks. I was also aware that I didn’t want to have to explain why I was crying; as I opened my eyes to look at my son, I noticed he was fast asleep.
I spent some time just looking at him, savoring moment and wondering about depth of reaction I had just had. It occurred to me later that I didn’t remember having many of these kinds of tender moments with my own father. I felt both happy for a chance to experience it with my son, and saddened that I didn’t remember more of them with my own father.
It also occurred to me that this was a time in our lives that would be extremely short-lived. This time of innocence, and magical moments that make up a three-year-old’s life, would soon be gone forever.
What will remain, however, will be my memory of this moment that we had together. It was a moment that made all of difficult work of being a father worthwhile. It was a moment worth remembering.
Being a committed father can at times feel like an incredibly thankless and unending job. It can feel like you are no more than janitor, chauffeur, and handyman in house where you live. And then you will have “a moment.” A moment like this in which your child expresses absolute, pure, and unconditional love for you.
When your kids have left home and you look back at these years, it will be one of memories--strung together with many others--that make up recollections of your fathering.