In Which: Joel runs a gamut of emotions over a two-year old

I'm going to let you in on perhaps a little known secret of fatherhood, or at least a discovery I've made about myself now that I've been a father for almost two and a half years.  We often put on a brave face, try to live up to the idea of being the "strong dad" who is there to clean up bloody, skinned knees, who chases away the monsters under the bed or in the closet, who gives the occasional stern look or raised voice to set a wayward child back on the straight and narrow.

But there's something else that happens when you become a parent - you learn the truth: being a dad makes you so much more aware of things.  It brings out emotions you didn't realize you were capable of.  It gives you a different outlook on life.  And suddenly you find yourself powerfully affected by so many things you never would have given a second thought to before you suddenly had this small person in your life who looks remarkably like you.

For example: I used to make jokes with my friends all the time and reference a scene from Family Guy, thinking what an over-the-top caricature it was of some of "those parents."  Here it is, poor quality that it is:

Now, like I said - I used to joke with my friends about this scene.  We actually used to enact it with one another when my son was a newborn.  I used to think, "There's no way I'd ever act like that."  How ridiculous it is to think that every time you see something on the news, you start shuddering, knocking on wood, praying that you never have to worry about that happening to your child.

And then I saw something on the news.  I watched a movie I've watched a hundred times.  I saw an episode of Doctor Who.  I saw a simple picture on Facebook.  And the next thing I know, someone has started cutting onions in the living room... I swear.  My eyes just start sweating like nothing else.

The thing about it is this: when you have a child... when you have a child... no matter what size your heart was before, it grows three sizes that day.  The silliest, weirdest of things will suddenly just hit you in the most unexpected ways.  You find yourself sneaking into your child's bedroom at night just to watch them sleep and wondering how this could be real.  How you have this wonderful, fragile, beautiful creation living in your house... and yes, often wondering how it is that they're so peaceful when they're asleep, yet so terrorizing when they're awake and running around.

Tonight was one of those nights for me.  And this was the culprit:

For those of you who don't know the story, this is Adrian Peterson and his son.  And recently, due to an alleged fatal situation of abuse, this little boy will never get to stand with his daddy on the football field and cheer him on again.  He will never get to kiss his daddy, never get to wear his daddy's helmet again, never get to hand his daddy a football.

We don't have the whole story - the facts aren't all in.  But the facts out at the moment have made it seem pretty clear that this child was flat-out murdered in a case of domestic violence.  The man who stands accused right now has a record of domestic violence.  He allegedly claimed that the boy choked, but hospital workers report finding severe head injuries.

Seeing that picture above breaks my heart even now.  I would have been upset by it before - but now, it really hits me.  The senselessness of it.  The fact that this little boy never did anything to deserve this - that no child, partner, spouse, pet, or family member ever deserves something like this.  And that things like this happen on a daily basis, but the only reason we even know about this particular instance is because it's attached to the name of an NFL player who is currently a leader in the league in touchdowns and rushing yardage.

I looked in on my son tonight after he'd gone to bed and I wept to think that tomorrow in the morning, I'll wake up and he'll be awake, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, smiling and laughing, rushing up to me to give me a hug.  I wept to think of the times when I've been angry with him, myself, when I've lost my patience with him, when I've had times where I've had to put myself in time-out so that I can calm down and come back to the situation at hand with a cool head again.

I weep for Adrian and for his son.  I weep in gratitude that my son sleeps soundly and that he will grow up with parents who do everything in their power to protect him from those who would hurt him.  I weep for a world where things like this are commonplace but are just seldom reported because they don't have headline news written all over them or because people are too afraid to report them to the police in the first place.

And yes... I weep for the man who did this, too.  I'm sure there will be/already are people all across the internet calling for this person's head, wishing him a special place in hell, expressing what they personally would like to do to him.  And yes... there's a part of me that definitely echoes that sentiment.  What this person did is reprehensible, to say the least.  But I cannot wish further violence on an already violent situation - I pray that what he did haunts him for the rest of his life, that he realizes what a terrible thing it is that he has done, and that this little boy receives justice.  But I pray that the man also repents, that he seeks and finds forgiveness for his actions.

And I pray for the day when things like this never happen again.  Time and time again, I hear that prayer roll out from my soul, "Come, Lord Jesus, come."

But meanwhile, I'll hold my son that much closer to me, own up to my newfound emotions and experiences as a dad, and let him know every night, every day, and every spare moment I have that I love him.