I sit here next to my son.  I hear his little three-year-old snores, and I know that, as long as he is close to me, he is safe.

There are few better feelings in this life; I am fortunate.

I also dread the future, because dear god what if I fail him?  What if I already have?  It's not as if I am contributing any significant amount of money to his maintenance.  In that regard alone, I utterly fail as a father.

So it is.  But I love him so fiercely.  His existence gives purpose to mine.  I would like to back up for a moment and say that I know how often such statements as the previous are used in what can charitably be called a hyperbolic way, in order to make a point.  But my general methodology is much more direct and genuine (I hope) than that.  I meant exactly no more and no less than what the words themselves mean:  His existence gives purpose to mine.  I was the *most* surprised, honestly, to find that my life seems to have been rather empty and pointless before this little guy came along.  And, unlike many parents (or how they seem to imply), I cannot take any credit for how awesome this guy is.  I suppose he shares roughly half my genetic code, though.  And I suppose he has learned an attitude or two from me.  But he is around his mother much more than me, and that has always been the case.  So how is he this awesome in a way that feels this personal?

These, and other questions, will or will not be further explored in blog posts I may or may not write in the future.  Life is uncertainty: suck it up.