I was raised by a single mother and have only met my father once. It was a source of much of my self-esteem troubles growing up. When I was a teenager I began to pray that whoever God had for me would be the father I had always wanted. Some one who genuinely loved our children and would take the time, no matter how much, to engage with them on their level.
One of the first things I noticed about N 5 years ago was how much he enjoyed his children. I sat in his sister's dining room, watching him chase his girls around and hearing them laugh from their bellies.
You could say it was the thing that made me see him differently than I had in high school. It was also then that I began plotting how I could get him to ask me out.
That's a story for another time.
This weekend was family time. We spent much of the time at home, just being. When I got home from work on Friday, this is what I saw:
I love the way they love each other. No matter where Zoe is or what she's doing, her daddy HAS to be a part of it.
He can get her to laugh harder than anyone else. She will freely give him kisses and then tickle him right back. He will laugh and squirm like her tickles really work.
N is the man of her dreams.
And mine too.
No comments:
Post a Comment