The Whole World In Your Hands
When you want to give me a kiss, it’s Father’s Day.
And when you don’t want my kisses, it’s also Father’s Day.
How you call me Dad when you’re being serious, or how you still call me Dada, or Daddy, or my favorite, “D,” when you just want to be cute.
That’s Father’s Day.
When you tell me I’m a good cook and thank me for serving you your meals, it’s Father’s Day.
When you say to me, “Dad, you’re the best,” that’s most definitely Father’s Day.
When you let me hold you as though you were a baby again, that is absolutely Father’s Day.
Or when you stand on the couch and say “One day I will be this tall,” that’s Father’s Day.
When we talk about our feelings and problems at night just before bed, that’s Father’s Day.
When you tell me not to sing to you at bedtime, but then quit telling me to stop after a few songs—Father’s Day.
Or when you tell me I’m not the boss of you, that you’re the boss of yourself, that’s for sure Father’s Day.
And those time when you’re crying, your eyes asking for my help, that’s Father’s Day.
Every moment, every day, is Father’s Day.
And that old spiritual song is true:
“He’s got the whole world, in his hands, he’s got the whole world, in his hands,
he’s got the whole world, in his hands…”
He’s got the whole world in his hands.
Fathers, Dads, Papás: you have the whole world in your hands. You really do.
Take care of it, and it will take care of you.