Lesbian Dad

Just a moment

Running alongside the stroller with him. He’s still so small as to face backwards in the infant car seat propped into it. We are en route to pick up his sister from preschool. I try to position myself in such a way as to block the sun from his eyes. He smiles his heaven-sent smile at me and, as babies and children do so well, he holds his gaze.

What does he see?

This moment: a crisp-yet-warm enough afternoon, early in winter. Autumn-colored leaves on the tree branches and bushes that whizz by at the periphery of his vision. In the center, his Baba’s smiling face, ringed by the corona of the sun.

He continues to smile, sublime.

I think: remember this look on his face.

I think: there will be a time when his anger at me (disappointment; resentment) will be as bright as the sun behind me. As bright as his smile is now.

I think: without a doubt. But right now — in this moment — I am as close to perfect as I will ever be. (So are we both.)


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