Happiness of a Father

For sure and forsooth, he is happiness--the world, my world is not meant for me no more, it's for him. His toothless smile that every day makes my day happy. I close my eyes at night wishing and praying all the good not mine but his. This now I feel the real stream of happiness of what it says to be a father.

This all began on 13 September 2019. I was outside the delivery room main door, mooching about four steps to each side of the lobby, waiting for a doctor to announce that the delivery was normal. My heart was so heavy, thumping faster and faster, running along with thoughts wondering, questioning, thinking about what was happening inside the room. “Our father... Hail Mary... Glory be....”--the prayers that I could clearly remember I always uttered at that time.

The people the same with me waiting for their loved ones in the delivery room seemed so relax sitting at the other end of the lobby.

“Just relax. Your wife will be fine,” a lady about forty comforted me. This lady must be the mother of one of the patients inside. I smiled to show her I was fine.

It was about noon. I was hungry and drained, but I was more concerned with my wife inside. She did not have breakfast, merienda, and lunch. She must be very hungry and tired, succumbed to the tug of labor and exhaustion. I bought a packed lunch and a bottle of water for her and waited for any personnel to go outside the door.

Waiting.

Waiting.

The door opened. A man who took in and out the oxygen tank came out and arranged the tank at the side of the lobby. “Hello, Sir. I have a patient inside, Charish Hamto. Could you please give this to her?” I handed the plastic to him. He took it and went inside. No 15 minutes he came back with the plastic with the packed lunch inside. “The nurse gets only the water, Sir. The patient is not allowed to eat,” he said and closed the door.

I was far concerned. She had no strength for sure.

Time flies very fast. It was four in the afternoon. This time she was not hungry, she was starving. I could not imagine how the pain of her labor doubles by the ache of her hunger. “What took it so long?” I questioned in my head, disconcerted with the long wait.

I heard feet striding inside. It came closer and closer to where I stood. The door opened. I grinned; I was relieved; I could start to breathe plainly. Alas! My eyes had no more of the door and the people of whom I did not know. There she was. She was lying on the stretcher, with a little person on her chest, lying on his front, sensing the warmth of her mother's love. I walked and ambled closer to them.

I witnessed a miracle of life in front of me-- a person begotten from me. This was the person whom I kissed good night for nine months in the womb of his mother. The wait was worth, even beyond worth.

Happiness never hides on things and never rests on delights; It comes across the person whom you are willing to exhaust your limit for his sake. I faced a new mission. I confronted a new vocation. My actions, my dreams, my ambitions, my goal, my purpose--surely not for me, forsooth they are for him. He smiles, I am happy. He cries I am hurt. His peeves will never be my annoyance as it will light up my joy which will luster my life. His laughs will certainly lavish my soul: a giggly squeak from a playful peekaboo is more than enough to eradicate the setbacks of my day.