On an airplane, reading poems of William Blake, I come across one called Little Boy Lost. It makes me think of the concept of fatherhood. I always thought of my father as all knowing, all wise and all powerful. Only when I grew up, perhaps in the twenties, did I figure out that Father was also a human being. Now he is a friend, an ally, and a staunch supporter.
I wonder if my daughter knows of the immense depth of my love for her. Her lightest smile makes my day. Her most frivolous wish is my command. Sometimes I miss her so terribly that tears come to my eyes. Perhaps when she grows up and becomes a mom, she will read this. And think with love of her father, her greatest cheerleader and her biggest fan.
As I think of my father today.