I slowly walked back into my parent’s living room on Father’s Day afternoon and hunted for my dad. “Um, Dad,” I said, quietly, standing behind him. “Could you maybe come outside for a moment and give me some advice?” I was trying to be discreet. I didn’t want to alarm my wife who was sitting across the room talking to my mother. But I’m not very good at hiding things from my wife, and she immediately looked at me with a concerned eyebrow. “It’s fine,” I told her, as my dad stood to follow me out the door. “There’s just something about our car that I would like my dad to look at quick.” This was the truth, but it maybe wasn’t the whole…
A father's struggle to capture his children's brief moment of youth in words and pictures
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Gideon finished his prayer and smiled down at his plate, ready to eat. But his sisters sitting to his left and right just stared at him with a pair of hard gazes that could turn a man to stone. He seemed to feel this and nervously glanced to the side and then, with a sigh, he put down his fork and folded his hands in front of him. “Okay, what?” he said as if he really didn’t want to know. “What is your problem?” The two girls looked at each other. Their eyes played a game of paper-rock-scissors to find out who was going to confront the little waiting man. Lydia won. “Gideon,” she said, leaning down so she could look directly into his…
“I’ve been thinking, Dad,” Gideon broke the silence in the car. It was just the two of us and he had been quiet for some time now. He didn’t have to tell me he was thinking, it was obvious ever since we left the driveway. I was just patiently waiting for the moment when he was ready to share. It had been a long day and we were on our way to pick up Thai food take-out too late in the evening because no one was in the mood to cook and I could barely break away from the report I had been working on to even drive to the restaurant with him before diving back into it. So, silence and the outside world…
My office door slowly opened and Gideon’s head leaned through it. “Dad!” he whispered very loudly. “Can you talk? Are you in a meeting?” Thankfully, I wasn’t currently in a meeting, but I was busy with something at my computer so I merely glanced at him and gave him a half-hearted, “Oh, sure. I’m free, little man. What do you need?” He stumbled in and stood next to my chair. I pat his hand without looking and waited for him to talk. “So… Dad,” he said finally. “Can I maybe have a toothpick?” “Oh, sure,” I fumbled around my desk and found the toothpick holder that I keep next to my monitor. I twisted the cap and shook one out into my palm. “Here.…
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