of fathers & fathering in a year of transition

a man and his ladder – ~2007, post heart pacing doodad surgery, @ rome, ny

as I held Rumbly overnight, noticing that midnight had passed by a few hours earlier, I looked down in the dim light of the living room and smiled.
Rumbly looked up and cried.
Ah, fatherhood…

3 boys, 3 girls – that’s enough, said dad a few years back – Andrew, Blood, Shari, Wendy, Mad Dog, Ryan; ~nov 2016, floyd, ny

My father had 6 kids. He himself was one of 5.

the Wallaces of Utica, NY – ~June ’62

I’ve spent many many years on the outside of parenthood – adjacent through the love of my friends, but never holding it as a goal, as the bulls-eye – frankly it was a very daunting concept.

I interrupt this blog post for an update from Boo: “he’s a meatball Rumbly – it makes me feel like I’m doing it gooooood!!!” says boo

to have been as wonderfully lucky as I have been to have Rumbly and Boo as part of my life – I… just wow. I read poetry every day (thanks email from Poetry.com!) just in case someone has written words that adequately capture this feeling of awestruck amazement.
Rumbly grows – soooo big now – just 2 months in.

how big will he grow?
how will my 10th Father’s day celebration go – to the movies? fishing? to the races? to the moon? to the tattoo shop? (Seamus, right?)

it’s all a wonderful puzzle, exclamation points presented in technicolor screaming at 2:30 am.

kids with dad, black & white – ~2003, cold brook, ny

it is probably a good thing that the time is filled with all that needs to happen, for the few moments I’ve looked into the rabbit hole of “huh, Dad had this very experience” or more typically “how did Dad do this?” – of course, that’s a reality that has passed. All I can really go with is “well, do what you think he might have done” and we’ll see where that takes us.

A boy and his dad; A dad and his boy – ~June ’17, durhamtown

Rumbly in ducks – Jun ’17 – HobbitHouse

of fathers – past, present & future
of fathering – done well, done wonderfully, done as good as can be
of transitions – ever onward, sometimes forward – sometimes incredible leaps forward, up into realms never imagined.

Thanks Dad. Love & miss you.
thanks Boo – love this kid you have with me.
Love ya Rumbly.

ciao,

[11:21a + 18Jun2017 = sunday || a milk drunk baby boy ‘errrt’ing on Boo’s shoulder]