Thursday, March 10, 2005

#1 son


I read a card that stated
some special Dad,
some particular Father,
is special because he helps his son
with his homework.
Because he plays catch
in the backyard; probably
on a hot summer afternoon,
when your skin is sticky with sweat.
Because he comes to his son's
baseball games, or
football games, or
soccer games.
It doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter because
you have done all those things for me;
for all of your sons.
I'm your number 1 son, but
I could not get you that card.
I could not get any of those cards
because those are the wrong actions.
Every Father does those things.
I think it might be a law or something.
Every Father's Day,
I look at the shelves of greeting cards,
shelves of little boys' "thank you's"
for doing those things.
But I cannot thank you for doing those things.

Did you love me?
Do you love me now?
I'm sure you do (or did).
All Father's do;
every father loves their son,
especially their #1 son.
You must know what it is like
to have that title.
To be reduced to that number:
#1 son.
The pressure of holding it together.
You were your dad's
#1 son.
You were the only son to go to college,
to get a diploma,
to get recognition.
Are you satisfied?
Does Grandpa love you?
I hope so, because he is a Father,
and Fathers are supposed to love their sons.

I do love you, Dad.
This is why it hurts so much.
That your love is so
old fashion,
You do not show me your love
You cannot play catch with me
You may love me because you are
my Father, and I am
your son, but
I do not feel that I have won
your love.
Earned my title.

To love me is to know me.
To love me is to respect me.
You do not know me.
You do not respect me:
The woman that I love (her name is Ellen),
the life that I am (a school teacher),
is what you must love.
You must be proud of me,
because I am me.
The son who is a teacher, and
fell madly in love with his highschool sweetheart.
I may be making mistakes,
perhaps the same ones you made.
I may not be living the life
that you want me to,
but you must love me, because
I am.
I am living,
I am loving,
I am being a son.
Please love your #1 son.

You can relate to wanting a Father's love.
Grant me my request.
If not for a son,
your son,
then for a fellow
#1 son.

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