![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
 | VoicePost  271K 1:24 | (no transcription available) |
1 comment | Leave a comment
This Is My Lunch
The story of two kids, told to them by their daddy, one lunch break at a time
04 April 2007 @ 05:28 pm
26 January 2006 @ 07:55 am
This journal is friends only. Please leave a comment and I will add you.
19 January 2006 @ 01:02 pm
Kids,
Persistence and posterity—your daddy is obsessed with them. And though I’ve been obsessed with them so long, I just today learned the true meaning of posterity when, while thinking of what I should say to you, I mistook it for persistence and decided to look it up. I’m glad I did, because the two of them together sum up what haunts me as each day goes by:
We all get one day older.
Little Bug, silly Wooter, you get smarter every day and astound me with your strides towards becoming an engaging and independent little girl. I ardently welcome your milestones. They make me so proud. But also, I feel that the prized memories you are making for me today are pushing out memories you made for me in the 2 years that I’ve known you: Though it is wonderful to see you eat oatmeal clumsily, yet efficiently, with a little spoon, it is nice to remember those times when I fed it to you myself. Though it is great to see you run, it is nice to remember those times when the only time you could walk upright was while pushing your little red Radio Flyer wagon around the house. Today, the person you are is beautiful. The person you were yesterday was beautiful too. Tomorrow, the person you will be will be beautiful and so will be the person you were today. While both seem infinite, I love the person you are today more than I did the person you were yesterday. This has proved itself time and time again. Yet, I did love that person you were yesterday, and I want to do all that I can to help remember her.
Little Man, of course, I love you just as much as your sister, but I hope you understand that, right now, I don’t yet know you as well. While your sister has been my motivation in this endeavor, you have been the motivation.
Accounts of the present don’t always make perfect sense without accounts of times long past. I will present both here—an account of your lives through the eyes of your daddy and an account of times past as they pertain to your lives. For example, sometimes, past accounts may be background information; sometimes they may be personal memory that you’ve stirred.
The very people whose moments I would like to document also leave me few moments in which to document them. An hour is a precious thing these days, and for any given day, there is only one in which I am permitted to do whatever I please—my lunch break. From now on, I give them to you so that, one day in your far future, you can read about what happened in your lives just the other day.
I hope that someday you can both sit down and read how I’ve described these snapshots in time to learn more about yourselves, to learn more about your parents and to become closer to one another in the process.
This is your daddy, and this is my lunch.
Persistence and posterity—your daddy is obsessed with them. And though I’ve been obsessed with them so long, I just today learned the true meaning of posterity when, while thinking of what I should say to you, I mistook it for persistence and decided to look it up. I’m glad I did, because the two of them together sum up what haunts me as each day goes by:
We all get one day older.
Little Bug, silly Wooter, you get smarter every day and astound me with your strides towards becoming an engaging and independent little girl. I ardently welcome your milestones. They make me so proud. But also, I feel that the prized memories you are making for me today are pushing out memories you made for me in the 2 years that I’ve known you: Though it is wonderful to see you eat oatmeal clumsily, yet efficiently, with a little spoon, it is nice to remember those times when I fed it to you myself. Though it is great to see you run, it is nice to remember those times when the only time you could walk upright was while pushing your little red Radio Flyer wagon around the house. Today, the person you are is beautiful. The person you were yesterday was beautiful too. Tomorrow, the person you will be will be beautiful and so will be the person you were today. While both seem infinite, I love the person you are today more than I did the person you were yesterday. This has proved itself time and time again. Yet, I did love that person you were yesterday, and I want to do all that I can to help remember her.
Little Man, of course, I love you just as much as your sister, but I hope you understand that, right now, I don’t yet know you as well. While your sister has been my motivation in this endeavor, you have been the motivation.
Accounts of the present don’t always make perfect sense without accounts of times long past. I will present both here—an account of your lives through the eyes of your daddy and an account of times past as they pertain to your lives. For example, sometimes, past accounts may be background information; sometimes they may be personal memory that you’ve stirred.
The very people whose moments I would like to document also leave me few moments in which to document them. An hour is a precious thing these days, and for any given day, there is only one in which I am permitted to do whatever I please—my lunch break. From now on, I give them to you so that, one day in your far future, you can read about what happened in your lives just the other day.
I hope that someday you can both sit down and read how I’ve described these snapshots in time to learn more about yourselves, to learn more about your parents and to become closer to one another in the process.
This is your daddy, and this is my lunch.