I wasn’t going to write about this, because it hurts too much. Even from afar. Even though I don’t know these people. But somehow I have to. I have a towel in my lap and my hands are shaking and I hope the girls don’t hear a strange noise from Daddy’s study and come to investigate.
The other day, during my daily reading, I came across this post on Doc Searls’ page. I read it and it broke my heart. But I soldiered up and tried to stuff the story and the feelings away somewhere.
But then tonight I went back. It wasn’t a choice- it was a human mandate. One human being to another. One parent to another. I read every word. Sobbing, shaking. With my towel.
I didn’t cry this hard when my dad died. Or when my mom died. But none of that matters. All that matters is that I am so sorry.
Those words seem hollow. Like a greeting or a nod.
But this time they are more than that. Much, much more than that.
I’m done for tonight. I’m going to find my children and hug them, tell them how much I love them and just be with them.
If they ask why Daddy is crying, I’ll just tell them because I am a Daddy. And because I love them.
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