On Sunday we took a trek to my mother's new house, her planned retirement destination. For the next year or so it will be a weekend retreat of sorts, but by all accounts it is the place that she will call home as my kids grow into adulthood. Because Gina was out of town, I naturally forgot important things to take along, like sunscreen. ... and a pack n' play for the baby to nap in. So as afternoon took it's grasp and she became more and more agitated, I retreated to a quite room, cuddled her in my arms and rocked until her eyelids dropped and we became one unit at rest.
I often get asked if four children is overwhelming. Like I have some brilliant response. "How do you do it?", the press. Well, this moment is how. ... this moment is why. Because the only true purpose of my life is these children. Because as I hold her, her trust in me inspires greatness in me. If I fail myself, I can make excuse. If I fail my wife, I can beg forgiveness. I fail my child. ... there is no coming back from that. I hold in my hands, in my opinion, the most valuable thing in the universe. An irreplaceable, unquantifiable, unimaginably perfect item. And she trusts me as she slumbers to do everything physically possible, and perhaps even more, to protect her, to love her, to see her through.
How do I do it? How can I not? There's not a damn thing in the world that could stop me?
And an occasional cold beer helps a bit too.