I didn’t grow up with a father, so my two sons have exactly as much experience with actual fatherhood as I do. What we’ve learned together is that fathers are mercurial, full of farts and orders, radiant with heat on a summer’s night already too hot for sleep. Fathers love words and pay children the compliment of deep attentiveness. They’re who you call for when you wake in pain. They cultivate the comforting myth of invincibility.
Las Cruces, NM