And leaving the house this morning, I kissed my sleeping daughter, who was impossibly perfect. Everything she does is delightful, the softness of her hair is astonishing, her cheeks are so delicate that there aren't enough nerve-endings on my rough fingers to discern the exact difference between touching her and not touching her.
I presume that, once upon a time, I was similarly innocent and at least a little bit delightful. What kind of man just walks away like that? What kind of man goes an entire lifetime without knowing anything about his son? I just don't understand, because I can't imagine a world in which I don't love Eowyn. Who is so broken that they don't love their children?
For my part, I don't want "Father's Day" (an invented holiday anyway) to be about my family doing honor or service to me. I want it to be the day I remember how fortunate I am to be the one that stopped that ripple of neglect and abandonment from spreading out in the world. I can't stop the stone from being thrown, and who knows how many generations back the initial splash happened. But I can start a new ripple, one that will gladly be carried on by all my descendants.