He is a Good Dad

He’s not promised a walk down the aisle to deliver his girl to her groom. Because the eventuality of life is that it could end any day.

He kind of lives life like that. A hug goodbye even when I’m cranky. Random flowers, just because. And then he does all the same for our child.

He’s a good dad.

I’m trying to see life as the Father of my child sees life.

Like when the trash truck is coming at 7 a.m. and he’s walking heavy cans down the driveway without being asked because it has to be done. Like self-discipline.

Or when he holds our daughter’s hand at the dentist’s but talks to her sternly so she listens and learns from it when she’s afraid. It’s second nature to him.

He flies kites and plays Mario. And his Dad jokes are the best ones. Even though he’s busy, he still makes time for fun.

He’s a good dad.

I don’t need so much focus or control because sometimes you have to let go. And just trust the man you picked.

To view life, like him.

With logic and reason and also, the simultaneous understanding that not one of us will get out alive. Then to love your family like that.

When you lean into the trust fall you’ll be familiar with the arms around you.

He teaches us that. That breaks are important, listening and focus are survival techniques, there is a time for fun, trust is important, and we always want what’s best for you.

To never underestimate the value of a properly mowed lawn. To do hard work.

You share the weight for a reason. For all the things I need control of in this life as a Mom, the Father of my child is the one who sees to it that I sometimes let it go.

In almost a decade of knowing growing versions of him, watching him lead our family as Father has been my favorite one.

He’s a good dad.

Sometimes He Carries The Team

Photo By CatchFly Photography 2020

Sometimes he carries the team.

I can not undo what my brain is hardwired to do, or unlearn how I have been conditioned to love and be loved. So I overthink it and he lays out the facts.

I can not part with my experience of trauma because she is a part of me. So, I hold her tight and I carry her. And he holds us.

I can not forget the feelings and the memories of postpartum. So I put them in my pocket and I carry them. And he zips up my pockets.

I can not abandon those who left too soon, who I grieve for. So I carry them in the fabric of my being. And he helps sew in the stitches.

When I was inadequate, when I felt I could not meet the measure, when I have failed or have been failed, I sleep with that. And he sleeps beside me.

The dishes that I miss, the laundry pile that keeps growing, the demand of carrying each item, each baby in your body, each child in your arms, the physical weight of it all gets a little heavy and gets you thinking-

“Boy, what a lot to hold.”

Mackinaw City, MI. 2021

But he helps me carry it. I do not carry it alone. And for all the things I know that “I can not”, there is one thing that I do know for sure-

It would be heavier without him.

Without someone who loves me when I’m broken, and enough not to fix me.

When I wince, when I rest, when I’m weary, when I can not hold the weight of it all alone-
he is with me on my team.

And for all of these things that I continue to carry…

It is him who carries me.

– Wallflower Writing