I had the idea for Josh to write a blog post, and I was giddy when he agreed.
Charlotte has invited me to contribute to her blog. I think she phrased it "visiting author emeritus," but it also might have been "guest writer." She also asked that I be serious.
I'll have to admit that her request is leaving me here with blogger's block. It turns out that jokes and quips are a defense mechanism I employ to avoid communicating any emotion or conveying anything about what I am feeling. How about a thought experiment?
Those who know me, take a minute and imagine a hypothetical. You are observing me speaking with someone, and I am suddenly asked a question where the only socially acceptable response would be me expressing an emotion. For example, "Josh, how is your marriage?" In your mind's eye (or ear) what was my response? Did I express my love for Charlotte and the feelings of devotion I harbor for her, which seem to grow stronger all of the time? Or did you imagine that I said something different, perhaps you imagined that my response to the question was something like, "Interminable."? So there is my point.
She wanted me to write about my thoughts on the upcoming birth of our child. When you consider the amount of emotion that is carried in a genuine answer to that query, you'll believe me when I say that writing this is a monumental internal struggle. Not because I am trying to express feelings that I don't have, but rather because I am feeling so much and I am trying to push all of it out of what has always been such a tiny outlet, like the pressure from a fire hose behind one of those plastic nozzles used to fill small water balloons.
I can't believe how much I care about someone whom I haven't met yet. Already I know that I am going to do anything to be sure that he is safe and loved and cared for. I feel relieved that I have Charlotte to share this responsibility with, and I know that she feels the same. I can't wait to teach him everything I know. I also know that it won't always be easy. Sometimes he'll need someone to play Mario Kart with, and that responibility will likely fall to me. (Hmmm. . . a joke. Old habits, I guess.) Son, I love you, and I'll do my best to be the kind of dad that I had, so that you will always feel safe and wanted at home.
That was a lot of emotion just now. I'm feeling a little dizzy, so I'd better go lie down.