Through a Father's Eyes

I was on the freeway when I received the call. I was about three quarters of the way through my morning commute, and in the middle of a teleconference.  I couldn’t tell who it was…the caller ID displayed my office phone, which had forwarded the call. I almost ignored it and sent it to voice mail, but I just had that feeling.  I knew I had to answer the phone. I could feel my body tense up as I pressed the answer key. I said hello… the caller identified herself, and began to state the nature of her call. She said my son’s name… I am not certain I breathed again for the next 10 minutes. My head was in a fog… I felt physical pain, like I’d been trampled and kicked by horses. I vacillated between rage and despair; consumed by fear for the future of our child.  I somehow managed to conduct the conversation and navigate across several lanes of traffic towards an offramp while I slowly felt slip the grip I thought I held on my world and my reality. Bleary-eyed and shaken, I turned the car around and headed towards home. Read more…

I entered through the sliding glass door to find him standing on the couch. His face was sheer elation. His broad grin exposed his tiny glistening teeth with two wads of chewing gum tucked into his cheeks. He heaved with laughter as he extended his hand to reveal a mostly empty pack of gum… the same gum I had taken from him and put away mere minutes beforehand. His eyes were still red, and his face still held the tracks from the tears he’d shed over the incident. All the stomping and hopping and the drooping of the shoulders and casting back of the head in protest had vanished from his mind. Only joy remained. He stood there victorious. He had his prize.

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