My world. Driving home, my mind races with thoughts and worries of the day, and a nagging sickness that’s kept me at less than 100 percent lately. Innumerable tasks, insufferable nags coming from every nook and cranny, and the relentless onslaught of the petty. Maneuvering in and out of traffic, the concrete jungle feels cold.
At home, my son Nova beams with a smile and yells out ‘Daddy!’ at my arrival. We spend a little time outside before dark, and I watch him as he explores puddles from the recent rain.
The day’s worries wash away as this little man shares his utter ecstasy with me. His world is beautiful as he discovers the simple beauty of splashing puddles with his boots.
Before being a father myself, I never really understood other dads and their conflicting stories. “I’m tired as hell, but it’s awesome being a dad.”
I understand it these days. And I’m grateful for every second of life that I get to share with Nova.
He is wise far beyond his years. I haven’t written this book yet, but the book of Nova is in my mind, in my heart, in my soul.