30 May 2005 - An Early Father's Day Present

Tonight at dinner, we were talking about the upcoming month, going over everything on the calendar together. We went through our plans for Zack’s half-birthday on June 1st, and Nicky’s half-birthday on June 16th, and then we got to June 19th, Father’s Day. Nicky started wondering about what he should do to help me celebrate Father’s Day.

Zack, of course, suggested that I’d like a small toy car, but Nicky was genuinely stumped about what sort of present I might like. So I helped him out a little:

“What do I like the most?” I asked.

“Coffee?” he suggested.

“Well, I do like coffee, but that’s not what I like the most.”

“Candy?”

“Well, yes,” I admitted sheepishly. “I do like candy, too. But there’s something I like more than coffee, more than candy.”

“I don’t know.”

“Come here, sit on my lap.” I waited until he was settled, then talked to him with our noses about an eighth-inch apart.

“Can’t you guess?” I asked. “There’s something I like more than anything at all in the whole wide world. Something I like more than ice cream!”

“I don’t know, Daddy! What?”

“You really don’t know my favorite thing in the whole world?”

He shook his head.

“You want a hint?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m holding it right now on my lap.”

“Daddy, I don’t know. What’s your favorite thing?”

“You really don’t know?”

“I don’t know!”

“Okay, then,” I whispered. “I’ll tell you. Are you ready? My favorite thing is . . . you.”

I wish you could have seen the expression on his face. He looked at me in doubt at first, thinking I was kidding. Like him better than ice cream? Not possible! But then an instant later he knew it was the truest thing he’d ever been told. I saw the understanding rise up in him like a wave. He smiled shyly, then grinned, then laughed, and the delight burst out of him. His eyes danced.

“Me?” he said.

“You and Zack. You’re my favorite thing in the whole wide world. My sons. Being your daddy is the best thing I know. And you know what I want for Father’s Day?”

This time he had no doubt, no hesitation. “A hug,” he said confidently.

“And a kiss,” I said.

“Okay.”

He’ll probably forget all about Father’s Day between now and June 19th. Twenty days is twenty lifetimes for a boy his age. But even if he forgets the day, even if he forgets my words, I know he won’t forget the feeling he had tonight. For the first time, perhaps, he caught a glimpse of how much I love him and Zack. For the first time, perhaps, he believed he was worth loving.

And I’ll never forget the look of joy on his face. He doesn’t know, he can’t know, but he’s already given me more than I could ever hope to get for Father’s Day.