Last night, trying to fall asleep, I was thinking about my kids, the ones that exist only in my imagination and some distant future; in my mind’s eye I had to look straight in the eyes of this little boy* and tell him that yes, he’d done something wrong, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love him, in fact I loved him before he was even born, and I just started crying, because right then, for a brief moment I think I understood how God feels.(*For some reason I imagine having sons, probably because I don’t want to have a daughter like I used to be as a punk teen, which with my luck means that I’ll have a whole houseful of girls. Ha!)
P.S. Appropriately enough, “For the Widows in Paradise, For the Fatherless in Ypsilanti” just came on while I was writing that. Oh, for more musical serendipity.