2 hours ago · 5 min read1069 words · Life · hide

I've never written about the day I became a father. I think about that day and often tell parts of the story, but so far I've not found all of the words to do so, if words are even adequate. What I need to say is too complex to express in my normal way. Maybe it requires a novel. Maybe it requires poetry, sculpture, or painting, or it's possible that the way to say what I need to say hasn't been discovered yet.Those of us who have spent our lives around young children are familiar with their creative struggle to express themselves. It's part of the process of learning the language, of course, so the conversational shortcuts and "good enough" putty with which we spackle our day-to-day adult conversation are yet to be learned. Children regularly find themselves thinking thoughts or having feelings for the first time and they need to communicate about them. Without being able to make use of the cliches upon which we adults rely, they must invent a way of saying it.An excited…

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