I remember his baby face. He didn’t look very old but he was married. He never hung around long and always looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He was always pretty nice though. Except when his wife was screaming at him and he didn’t seem so present. Like he was gone. And then one day he really was gone; divorced and on his way to something else, hopefully better.
Fast forward a few years.
One day at a friend’s house, there he was, the man with the baby face from years ago. My son was driving me insane. The baby faced guy, who couldn’t have been much older than I was, played with my little man and calmed him, eventually tiring him out. Just a few weeks later he was listening to me cry my heart out. Before long, he devoted his life to us. He drove six hours every weekend and seemed to stay up at all hours of the night, when I needed someone most.
Ten years later he’s still here. And for the rest of my life, I will treasure every picture I have of him crashed out with all the kids.
Oh yeah, and that baby face of his? A blessing of genetics.