I used to be there for you---a poem for my son, the Boy, Harper

I was there the night you were born,

At home, your mother standing at the doorway.

She caught you in her arms.

I was there for the 13 days you were in the neonatal intensive care unit.

Your first  sounds, your first words, your first steps.

I was there for you (not like now).

I decided that I would be a better father if I studied Special Education

Instead of  being a third grade teacher like I had wanted.

I was there for you when you went to Head Start.

I was the disabilities coordinator, making plans for kids like you.

Your Mother and I went to court, suing the school that did not want to teach you.

We won, of course.

So you went to school with your friends, your “normal” peers.

I was there for you (not like now) when you learned to ride a bike without training wheels.

The proudest moment of my life was when you finally pulled away from my steady hands and started that “Spiral of Death,” an ever-tightening circle until you finally crashed and cried. I had tears, too, but of joy.

When we got word that you won third place in a state-wide essay contest about inclusion, I was there for you (not like now).

I was there when you had your many meltdowns, to soothe and calm you the best I could.

When I lost my job, I was there for you even more. I was there for you when you were not in school.  I fed you, bathed you, clothed you. I was there,  in your bed, when you fell asleep, all night in case you needed something, and there when you woke up.

I was there to take you to your drum lesson, and to Starbucks  if you were good.

I was there for you (not like now).

I was there for you when you were sick, when you needed to go to the doctor.

I was there for all of your best birthday parties.

I was there for Christmases.

I was there to teach you how to swim.

I was there for you (not like now).

I do not know why I left you the day after Christmas, 2007.

I just did.

You have seen me at my best, but also at my worst.

For four months, at the end of last year, the only reason I got out of bed was so that I could call you every night. I only left my apartment when I was allowed to see you. I only ate when  we went out together.

I am so proud of you. You have accomplished much. For most of it, I was there for you (not like now).

It has been almost three months since I last saw you, or was allowed to talk to you on the phone.

Life has changed greatly for me, and for you, over the past two years.

Your Mother and I are no longer married.

I moved, several times, but now I live an hour away from your house.

But I still think of you every day. The sparkle in your eyes, the tousled hair, the crooked smile. I miss taking a nap with you. I miss reading to you. I miss you.

I was there for you (not like now).

I cannot wait for the day that I get to hold you in my arms again. Kiss your shining face, take you by the hand the way I do.

People change, life changes. It is what it is.

Know that I am better now, better than ever, and that I will see you as soon as possible. Know that I miss you and love you.

I will be there for you (not like now).