B. Hudson

As if being monday isn’t a crappy enough reason to be a wreck today..

My wife just called me not but a few hours ago to tell me my 3 year old son needs his tonsils removed. Appointment is on 5/18. Before anyone maligns my good name.. I know. I know, I know, I know..

1. That having your tonsils removed is not quite the same as heart surgery/brain surgery.. etc.
2. That this is not the worst thing that could happen to the little guy
3. That I am over-reacting
4. That a numbered list is really over the top for 4 topics
5. That if the little guy could recover from an appendectomy he could handle tonsils.. No problems

Knowing all that doesn’t help. If you are a parent, you probably know already. If you aren’t, you cannot understand. (I know non-parents hate hearing that but in this case its true) Some people are just very noble when it comes to their children.. And then there’s me. As mentioned before on this blog, I always wanted to be a dad. Since 10, that was the goal. Be a good dad. For a long time I thought that just would not happen for me, and then being the kooky kind of God he is, he gave me my little guy. (funny as it is, it was just after I resigned myself and totally accepted I would never have a child of my own, but that seems to be the timing he was looking for) To say I would rather take the pain than him, is an understatement. I would rather everyone was given pain instead of him. The goofy comic book situations where its “save the (fill in the blank), or save the world”.. screw the world. He is precious on a level that I cannot convey in words (although I sound like a crazed killer guy here, I’m not). I value his well being far over everyone else’s, mine included.

I remember pacing the floor for the entire time until I could see him after he got tubes in his ears.

I remember nervously pacing and shaking constantly until I knew he was ok from his appendectomy.

I remember holding him at 3 months old as they X-ray’ed his chest for verification of his Pneumonia in the emergency room. (After he had been given breathing treatments to get his Oxygen level in his blood up to normal)

I remember every second. Of every problem. He has ever had. I still jump when I hear him cough. I still get nervous when he runs any fever. My son is the toughest person I know. He took more crap these first 3 years than most people take in the first 10. I want him to be superman. I want him to be the best (whatever he wants to be) in the history of (whatever he wants to do).

Everyone has dark times in their life when things seem almost hopeless. Like there is really no reason to go on. The ones that DO go on, adjust and move forward.. Adjusting to the darkness and schlepping on with the day-to-day crap. My wife and her 2 wonderful kids brought me from that darkness into a life that was so good, it was almost fairy-tale. My son took me from that to a euphoric high that would make drug users envious. So wonderful that i could never get it out in words. He looks at me and smiles, and I forget any problems I had. He is still pretty young, so I’m sure eventually he’ll be giving me the same kind of problems his older brother/sister do. But until then.. He is the gift God gave me. People want “tangible” proof God loves them, I never really asked for it.. But he gave it to me anyway. He could have given me some really aloof kid. I’ve seen/met them.. Just kinda there, no spark.

My son is a spark.

This entry was posted on Monday, March 12th, 2007 at 6:32 pm and is filed under Family. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.