My First Father's Day

Yeah. I know this font is Comic Sans. Deal with it and keep reading.

People want to know what my first Father’s Day will be like. I really don’t know. It will be bittersweet – and possibly – a quiet Sunday before work. I am still scheduled to sit for another twelve hours at Rineco and Caeli is still in ACH. As tough as it is to parent from the neonatal intensive care unit, I do get the joy of hearing my little girl coo in the phone as my wife places it near her ear. I’m told she smiles, opens her eyes, and is generally excited when she hears daddy and even starts looking around for me.

I’m not gonna lie:  Every day since February 13 has been Father’s Day.

My world, which was limitless as recently as late January, has shrunk to a dimension of twenty minutes from home in any direction. What that means is that even after an hour of driving (to Gould or Hot Springs), I need a nap. I haven’t seen the city of Conway this year despite being only 45 minutes away from Bryant!

Parenting over the phone from the NICU sure is difficult.

My first Father’s Day means the road will prayerfully be long and fruitful even if that piece of slab is gravelly at times. I have my dad to look up to; in his upcoming retirement, I’m sure he’ll have unlimited advice in raising Caeli as he watches my hair turn gray over time. As she grows up, I aim to be the father she needs:  fair, providing all of the needs (and some wants), and simply being daddy.

I don’t need the third Sunday in June to remind me that Father’s Day is the day I get honored; my baby has done that for eighteen weeks and counting.

Thanks for all of the well-wishes.