POEM: Fatherhood and the Existential Man

He thought life was easy; he thought life was good.
Water-skiing,
Hiking,
Dining with friends—
Our carefree existence.

And then he was a dad.

Still we went to restaurants,
Ball games,
Backyard barbecues.
He embraced his new existence.

But now, as his son grows,
The baby he knew and loved is gone.

The delightful infant
Is now replaced by a boy who
Dresses in self-assembled outfits,
Pours cereal and milk with little spillage,
And starts DVDs when he pleases.

And then came another.

The little one
Waddles and falls,
Lifts his arms, Hugs ‘da da’,
Amazes us by bringing us his shoes
When we tell him to --
Unlike his brother,
Who only rushes to the closet when he’s good and ready for that walk.

One rides a bike
The other a stroller

Contentedly he lived his life
In the here and now
Asking only “Am I happy?”
And if not,
“Why not?”
And “What can I do to change it?”

But now he wonders,
“Should I trade in my Jeep for a minivan?
Are the urban schools good enough
Or should I become a suburban dad?”

He watches them with bittersweet pride,
Encourages one to pedal,
one to talk,
wishing both would stay babies.

But this sadness
At the passing of time:
Does the father mourn
The passing childhood,
The impending maturity
Of his sons
Or of himself?