A family man
I used to believe I was a good writer but fatherhood has robbed me of words. It has taken me beyond the limits of expression.
Sometimes Zenita smiles and I sing stupid, meaningless songs packed with meaning because they are ours. I cannot find words for the feeling that we share it and only I will remember in years to come.
Naughtyman laughs a lot. Making someone else happy is the best you can do with your life is what his laugh says to me. I wish sometimes that I could do more to make happiness in my life, for Mrs Zen in particular, and I know I could, I’m capable, but sometimes capability and ability are just not the same thing, not even in the same state.
I have been blessed. I want to sing it but I have no words. I could hum the tune though. I resonate with it.
I have far more love than I thought my withered soul could give. I have so much more to give if I can free it.
Sometimes, holding one of my children, dancing to a song that moves me, feeling stir within me the whole of my being, all that I can be if I could only find a way to be it, I know that a day will come, soon, when I will let go of Dr Zen and be the father of my children, the husband of my wife, the man I can admire. But the knowledge is fleeting and I thought I could write but I don’t have the words to pin it down and make it stay.
posted by Dr Zen @ 9:36 am
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