Joy

I just watched Jiro dreams of Sushi.

And the guy has spent nearly every day since he was 11, perfecting the “art” of sushi making.

Why can’t it just be a decision?

I’m 14, you’re 14. We meet. We fall in love and I promise I will devote my life to perfecting the “art” of making this work.

This is why I think people have children.

Because they are obligated to love you.

They don’t have a choice.

Not to say that I am just going to have a child and expect her

To love me,

I fully intend on earning her love. Sacrificing everything I can for her

And telling her all about how much I love her

And none about how much I have given up for her.

Because what I will have to give

Will mean nothing compared to what I have given up

So, I get a job that gets me off in time to pick little Cordeila up from school on time

And I will attend her silly five year old recitals and talk to the parents of the boy that is mean to her maybe, arrange a play date where she realizes she is too good for little Johnny that hit her.

And she will be the most beautiful girl in the class.

And I will not give her everything she wants

Though I will want to

And she will be humble

And gracious

And she will grow

And eventually pay for things herself and want to.

She will one day recognize the depth of my sacrifice and realize that by not saying a word about it, that I truly love her

and will forever love her

more than anything in the entire world.

And this will make her cry on her wedding day

When she holds her glass to me

And says what a wonderful father I’ve been

And the man

Or woman

She is sitting next to

Will be weirdly unsure as to whether or not it is some kind of Elektrian complex

But it won’t matter

Because it will be beautiful.

Like they say

A son is a son till he marries a wife. A daughter’s a daughter for life.

Considering that I hope Cordelia is a lesbian

That marries another woman who will love her unconditionally, and fully, but who also has ties with her own father.

Because no one,

NO ONE

Should lose their child to their child’s significant other.

Because a child is forever

From their birth to your death

Forever

And you know what? I’m glad you are a woman future partner of my daughter.

Because men are filth

Being a man I know this to be true.

I am filth.

Beautiful filth

But filth none the less.

So you’re a woman future partner of my daughter and thank you for being one.

And thank you Cordelia.

For somehow landing the beneficial lesbonic gene.

Enjoy your lives together.

I will be very present.

We will do Christmas together!

And Cordelia and Monica

Cordelia’s partner

Will invite me over for Christmas dinner

And Monica’s family will be so kind and so generous

And we will exchange presents and eat tons of food we can just comfortably afford and develop an annual routine

That I will see through until I am 92

At which point Cordelia and Monica

Will take one final picture with me in a Christmas hat.

Me-gloriously old

And them-not looking a day over 32.

They will kiss either one of my cheeks,

Full smiles on all our faces

And joy

Joy

Joy

Joy

Joy

Joy

Joy.

And I will die peacefully on New Years Day

And they will display said photo at my funeral.

And Cordelia will be devastated

But Monica will pick her up and love her

And tell her she is beautiful

And that she is who she is because of who I was and this will make her feel that I am always with her

Because I always will be and I will cry from heaven

And my tears will come down

As raindrops

On my grandson’s soccer field

And as he scores a goal

And Cordelia will cry

Because he will look like me.

And all because a man left

A man who I thought would give me everything

Who I promised to give everything to

Forever

Because he asked me if I would and I said yes.

Every night he’d touch me

Kiss my forehead

And my fingers

And the sides of my belly

To assure me of his love

Each night

With each touch

He promised affection

Promised that he would do it for as long as he lived

You don’t promise that kind of thing with words,

You shouldn’t have to.