Linking up with Clan Donaldson.
I know it's late, but we had to wait for the subject to arrive!
His flight is two hours late and lands at eleven o'clock at night. I take the baby in, still sleeping. He slumbers through the transfer from mine to his father's arms. But slowly he wakes, because these arms encircling him and supporting him are fundamentally different. At first glance, he's shy, but he recognizes this man called "Daddy," who we count in our litany of God-bless-Blanks when we say our prayers every night, who lives inside the rectangular screen on the desk in the back room. Only now, it's different; he's here, he's holding him, he's so big and tall!
Welcome home, Daddy.