On Fathers Day

It's Fathers Day, little sweetheart, and I'm thinking of my own late father, who passed away young and has been gone now longer than he was present in my life. I'm thinking of my grandfather who I know would (and probably does) adore you. I imagine the two of you kindred spirits being fast friends there in the Forever. I'm thinking of your own father, who I sent a gift and cake and your mom is going to surprise him with later today. And I'm thinking of you, because I know you wanted to raise a child with me, making me a daddy myself. I went to that little church I told you about this morning, little sweetheart, and there was a baptism. Two little baby girls, one who reminded me of you so very much with her fair skin and light hair and angelic features and her beautiful spirit. The tears streamed down my face as I watched. Later, after the service, her family were taking pictures and she got loose and scampered speed-crawling up an aisle. As her mom retrieved her, I told her how beautiful she was, this little bundle. And, just like I said, what a beautiful spirit she had. The mom said she's always like that. She wakes up that way. And as she said it, the babe in arms was looking at me smiling and started puckering at me. "Do you want to give him a kiss?", the mom said. And I leaned over, my cheek tilted toward her sweet little mouth and she kissed me. And I thanked her. And I felt you were, as I often do, with me. Its Fathers Day, little sweetheart and that's what I'm thinking just now. Love you forever.