success.

while mama is getting “prepped” for delivery, papa sits in a long, empty hallway.

on the adjacent chair, a weathered, two-year old issue of hot rod. not interested.

deep in thought? or, anxiety? both.

my mantra: “healthy mama, healthy baby.”

in an attempt to calm the nerves (“attempt” being the operative word,) i pace the quiet, sterile hall. laminated tropical fish adorn the walls. on each angel and tang fish, an inspirational message.

SUCCESS, by (philosopher/poet) ralph waldo emerson, catches my attention…and, resonates.

prior to fatherhood, i defined success by my vocation, salary, ratings, accolades, number of “friends,” blahblahblahblah.

silly, silly boy.

today? well…

SUCCESS

“to laugh often and love much;
to win the respect of intelligent persons
and the affection of children;

to earn the approbation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;

to appreciate beauty;

to find the best in others;

to give of one’s self;

to leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child…”

SUCCESS.

now, i have to work on that garden patch.