Fatherhood

A little break from politics is in order for this post. This blogger has a five month old daughter. She is beautiful, and vibrant. She wakes in the morning, happy to see her daddy. She can coo in a way that earns her a warm spot in her parents' morning bed, where the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts about her little nose. She nestles in between the pillow, playing with the folds of the sheets, pausing when she hears the dawn's breeze tingle the wind chimes. She loves life, and doesn't know it.

Raising a small child in this era requires walking a tightrope. One can become morose observing history's pangs, knocking on the door, demanding entry. And yet great joy comes from this little brown-eyed girl who knows how to roll over and suck her toes. A parent needs to believe there is a future---one that holds promise and a place for a daughter. Is that a delusion? Is it mere hope without substance? How are despair with hope balanced?

Soon, her first tooth will emerge. Her first dollop of rice meal will make her eyes grow big and amazed. Stay safe, little daughter. Daddy will hold back the darkness as best he can.