I’ve written about this several times before – so much so
that I am starting to tire of it - encountering a story at a certain time, a
perfect time in my life.
I doubt that this story would have had the same impact on me
10 years ago as it did today. I was living such a different life just 10 years
ago.
I might have read this story, thought about it and somehow
related to it through the lens of my relationship with my father.
Now, I read the story and lay it across the relationship I
have with my sons.
As with many of these short stories, the icing on the cake
is applied on the final page. I absolutely love this ending from David
Jauss.
That night, though, unable
to sleep, I got up and went into my son’s room. Standing there in the wan glow
of his night light, I listened to him breathe for awhile, then quietly took
down the railing we’d put on his bed to keep him from rolling off and hurting
himself. I sat on the edge of his bed and began to stroke his soft, reddish
blond hair. At first he didn’t wake, but his forehead wrinkled and he mumbled a
little dream sound.
I am not a religious man. I
believe, as my father must have, the day he asked me to save him, that our
children are our only salvation, their love our only redemption. And that
night, when my son woke, frightened by the dark figure leaning over him, and
started to cry, I picked him up and rocked him in my arms, comforting him as I
would after a nightmare. “Don’t worry,” I told him over and over, until the
words sounded as incomprehensible to me as they must have to him, “it’s only a
dream. Everything’s going to be all right. Don’t worry.”
Perhaps I am lucky that I, in this day and age, am able to
spend so much time with my children. Sure, I have a 9-5 but I am there in the
mornings and I am there to put them to bed – every single night. Is this
unusual? For some reason, I feel that it is. And I often feel fortunate to be
able to have this time with them.
My sons sleep together. It’s nice but I realize that it
won’t last long. The oldest will soon want to be in his own bed (which is right
above his brother’s – yes they have a bunk bed but both sleep on the bottom).
I am able to check on them before I lay down at night and
their innocence, while they lay there together asleep, is almost too much for me
to handle.
They live in a worry-free world filled with love and
laughter.
We work hard to provide that to them. I have found myself
standing in their room silently assuring them that everything will be all right
– of course, it’s more me reassuring myself that it’ll be OK.
Yes, it’ll all be OK.
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