You filled empty shoes their biological father threw out like garbage. You slipped your feet in, one after another, tied them tight and declared them yours from then on.
Like a super hero…You were to them.
Girls have fairy god mother’s, boys have plain old dads. They have no need for magic, just truth. The truth that they are safe and loved, and believed in by their very own Dad.
Eighteen years later that’s what you are to them, and have been for all these years.
Still. As we pack our son’s bag again. A son that has chosen a road we never meant for him, as the minutes pass, driving us closer to goodbyes…I can’t help but wonder, if it was you who seeded him, would you let him go so easily…
To have one person who will love me,
the beautiful me,
the ugly me,
the sweet me,
the mean me,
the sad me,
the happy me,
the skinny me,
the fat me,
the boring me,
the fun me…
The idea is beautiful.
Problem is, there is only the demand to be loved and none willing to.