I Miss His Tiny Hands in Mine and Hearing Him Call Me Daddy

“Dad, how come everybody else calls you Mark, and I have to call you Dad?”

“Well, Josh, it’s not so much that you have to call me Dad. It’s more like you get to call me Dad, and that’s just between us.

Dad is a special word between a father and his children—the same as a mom. Nobody else gets to call me Dad. Just you.”

This conversation took place when Josh was days away from turning sixteen.

As he got older, he, like many kids, traded out Daddy for Dad and Mommy for Mom.

Once in a while, Josh slips and says “Daddy” instead of “Dad.”

That day had been one of those days.

Every time that happens, it stirs up memories.

Beautiful memories of him when he was younger. I feel a fondness for the time when he needed me in a different way, and, at least in my mind, some things were much simpler.

There is a part of me that misses him calling me Daddy.

A part of me wishes his hands were still tiny, and he wanted to hold mine. The days when he was so small he could sleep on my chest. The days when carrying him to the car and strapping him into his car seat brought a profound sense of joy to my heart.

All beautiful and good things

Yet, it’s easy to romanticize days gone by.

Frequently, the “Good Old Days” weren’t really as good as we believe we remember.

They had their challenges just as today does, and just as the days in the future will. Sometimes, we forget the challenges and perceive days gone by as somehow much better.

But I can feel those moments in my body at this very second. In my chest. In my soul.

As much as I miss those times with Josh, they are gone.

I get to enjoy the memories.

I also get to appreciate the person he is now, and I also get to be excited about the future and who he is becoming—moment by moment and day by day.

Whatever that turns out to be.

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Savor the good days—every one of them.

Savor the not-so-good days as well—every one of them.

As sure as the sun rose today, the not-so-good days could have been much worse.

The days we get to be on this Earth are limited, but the joy we can experience isn’t.

We can’t control the sun or the rain, but we can choose the seeds we are sowing for ourselves and our children.

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