On a cool spring afternoon, I sit in the backyard strumming my guitar as my sons, X and N, blow bubbles. Soft, rainbow-filled spheres of soapy water glisten in the sunlight and dance in the wind while the boys laugh with delight.
“Look, Daddy,” X says with a crooked smile. “My bubbles are beautiful.”
“Yes they are,” I agree as I watch him make more sudsy creations with his magic wand. I watch one of the bubbles float away and I realize how much it symbolizes this moment. It exists for a few seconds and then POP – a loud explosion of childhood memories.
N blows a few more bubbles as X chases them around the backyard. These are the moments that make fatherhood such a joy.