A Good Father?
A short story on fatherhood, regret and peace.
I don’t often to get the chance to write fiction anymore…but here’s a quick attempt at getting back to it. A short story about a father and his notebook.
The old man sat on the bench, watching the children play. They were laughing and running around, oblivious to the world around them. The old man smiled wistfully, remembering when he was young and carefree.
He had been a good father, he thought. He had always been there for his children, providing and loving them unconditionally. But there were times when he had been too busy with work or tired from a long day, and he hadn't been as present as he could have been.
As he watched the children play, he felt a wave of regret. He regretted the times he had missed and had been too focused on himself and not enough on his family.
He regretted the times he had been angry or impatient when he said or did things he didn't mean.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a notebook. It was a small, leather-bound notebook he had kept since his children were born. In it, he had written down all of his thoughts and feelings about fatherhood. There were memories of happy times, milestones reached, and challenges overcome. There were also regrets, things he wished he had done differently.
He opened the notebook and began to read. As he read, he smiled and laughed, but he also cried. He cried for the times he had missed but also for the times he had gotten right. He cried for his love for his children and his regret for the things he could never change.
When he was finished reading, he closed the notebook and put it back in his pocket. He stood up and walked away from the playground, feeling a sense of peace. He knew he had been a good father; that was all that mattered.
He walked home, thinking about his children. He smiled, remembering all the good times they had shared. He knew he would never forget them; they would always be in his heart.
As he walked, he thought about the notebook. He knew he would never read it again, but he was glad he had kept it. It reminded him of his journey as a father and all the love he had for his children.
The old man died that night peacefully in his sleep. His children were at his side, and they knew that he loved them very much.