Father's Day.

When I was in nursing school I get that occassional "want to be a dad" feeling. I would tell the nursing office to set me up with pediatrics so I can feed the kids at the ward. I'm always that eager student nurse working for a few bucks to pay for rent and gas money. I will carry the baby on my arms and feed them formula while we rock on a wooden rocking chair. It's fun and nurturing. Where was the baby's mother you ask, well she has other kids to take care of at home and she can't make it to the hospital. The baby's welfare was on the hands of the nurses and doctors that take care of him.

All was fine with the baby feeding so I proceeded to burp him. This was always fun because it can be messy. There were dry burps and wet burps. The later is the one you need to worry about. You don't want to wear some baby's dinner for the rest of the shift. It's uncomfortably sticky. After eight hours of non stop feeding and burping, I'm done with the fatherly thing. All my nuturing spirit has been sapped by my aching feet, sore back and wet shoulder. I will take another month or so before I come back to peds to fulfill yet another need to be a dad.

This weekend is another father's day. A day to reflect on the memories of my dad. I can't share much about him because his memories are mine to keep and enjoy. It's between us guys. Some families will enjoy it by cooking out at eating in a nice restaurant. I will celebrate it in my heart and my mind. Thanks dad for bringing us to America.