Last weekend we babysat our nephew for several hours on Saturday. In the afternoon, after Nutella sandwiches, fresh strawberries and kite-flying at the park, My Beloved sat down on the floor and began to teach J how to play chess.
Three years ago My Beloved had just 20 hours to be a Father to Thomas, and in that agonizingly short time I saw the sweetest glimpse of what could have been.
As the years pass and I watch him doing things like teaching five-year olds how to play chess, and playing peek-a-boo over the fence with our two-year old Goddaughter, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt what kind of Father he would have been to our son.
And what kind of Father he is in his heart.
I love you, Sandy.