Monday, August 17, 2009

holding the kids

I love to hold my daughters, and they love to be held. It is music to my ears when Claire says, "Please hold me, Daddy." Often she says this halfway through dinner time when she is getting tired.

Claire also sometimes asks to be comforted, or for me to wipe the tears from her eyes. Her honesty is a treasure, and I hope to be worthy of her trust forever.

Sometimes I try to remember back to when I was a little kid, but there are only a few times I remember being held. Once was when I was afraid of fireworks on the 4th of July.

From 109canon

2 comments:

Kathy said...

You are a great dad. Seriously.

ya know Mark, It's not like you had a cold childhood...You were less of a "please hold me Daddy" at dinner and more of a "ask to be excused to take a nap in front of the sliding door."

Mark said...

right, I didn't mean at all to imply that I wasn't held a lot as a kid. I'm sure I was. Just that I can't _remember_ it. In some way, I think this means that the routine/comfortable part of childhood doesn't so much form conscious memory as it does provide a secure "sub-conscious" foundation. My theory.