The Youngest
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Resting His Eyes
He mumbled, “Just resting my eyes.” I let him stay—because this moment mattered more.
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I Should Have Gone
He asked me to ride. I said no. He forgot. I didn’t. That’s the difference.
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The River Ride Remembered
He remembered the rides, the river, the feeling—and that’s how I knew it mattered.
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Best Friend
I said he’s my best friend. He said no. I smiled—and kept showing up.
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Breakfast Anyway
He asked. I almost said no. But I said yes—and got a morning I’ll remember.
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The Ghost Did It
The ladder fell. No one confessed. “The ghost did it,” they said, without missing a beat.
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The Break Between Classes
Between karate classes, we sit in the car. Snack, talk, watch—just time. Just presence.
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The Car Ride After the Game
He asked me to talk so he wouldn’t fall asleep. I did—until he did.
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He Still Reaches for My Hand Sometimes
He grabbed my hand without thinking. Just for a moment. I stayed still and held on.
Dad
I’m a dad who’s still figuring it out. Not all at once, and not always well — but I try to show up. That’s the thread running through most of what I write here.