And we are. To our own family. To our parents. To our brothers and sisters, if we have any of those. To some relatives of ours. To our friends. Or to the ones who have conquered our hearts. Our girlfriend or boyfriend, wife or husband.
And last but not least, to our own children, if we have the fortune to have them.
Nothing beats the feeling of one being important to a new born, a life that is just beginning. Nothing, I tell you...
I’m one of the most fortunate of men. I’ve been blessed with the most beautiful daughter a father can dream of.
My sweet little daughter is today a proud little woman, almost to finish her master’s degree. And I don’t think I will have another chance of raising a child of mine after her. I wouldn’t be important to another new life. But this last week I was.
He’s just starting to say his first words, I believe. Perhaps he doesn’t know how to say mommy or daddy. But he knows how to call me when he sees me at a distance. And he shouts toward me “King! King!” pretty loudly. And with his little arms in the air. And showing a so happy smile in his little face.
I perhaps won’t see him again anymore in my life, after last wednesday evening. He’s not my son. But I will never, ever forget this little kid.
Nor Olivia, his older sister, of four years old. A truly smart little girl. Or Zoey, her little friend, younger than her. Or Frankie, Zoey’s brother, about the same age as Olivia. Or the parents of all of these kids. All of them truly kind and good people. With great hearts. And such wonderful families they all make.
Matthew will grow up to be a champion. And when one day in the future I will watch him on tv raising above his head the greatest sport trophy there is, I will say to myself “I knew it!…”.
And I will love having lived such sublime moments as those as little Matthew and a bunch of small kids gave me, to cherish them in my most precious memories. If people only knew, I would be the envy of this entire world.
