I´m a dad (six weeks).
I will be a dad, I will be your dad, I will always be your dad now, in some capacity. As it stands you are six weeks old, too small yet to even be promised to us but already I have painted entire lives for you on a canvas at the back of my mind. There you have moved countries four times, your skin is both sun-kissed and pale and I have broken the legs of the lovers who failed to realize that you, Little One, are impossible; that for you to exist me and your mother had to endure every suffering and happiness and use those experiences as a platform to trigger our escape into our own corner of the world, to meet, to hold hands underneath the cold Amsterdam street lights and to move across oceans.
My body is sick right now — not as sick as your mothers, but, still sick — I have my doubts, I have a lot. However, none of them are about you Little One; you will enter this world unburdened, as an example, a reminder, of what it is to be innocent. I afraid to be in the presence of you and to know that one day you will have to live your own impossibility. But there are somethings I can do for you, somethings I can promise, a list of ever available possibility.
1: I promise I will always be there when you need me; in person, a voice and within the knowledge that where ever you stand, I will be beside you.
2: You will never have to suffer alone.
3: I will learn as much from you as you will from myself and your mum.
4: I will always respect your choices in life and value you for the person you are and the person you will become.
5: Things out here are crazy, you´ll see just as much as I see but I always will try and help you make sense of it all.
6: I will never — ever — sleep again.