A Man More Like Your Mother

Does he pack you a lunch when you're running late for work? Even when you're not running late? Does he insist on regular medical check-ups, for which he'll pay because you don't have insurance?

Will he disapprove of your objectionable behavior, and not turn the blind eye of a smitten lover?

Will he tend to your mildest ailment with a gentle hand and moist cloth? Will he trust you enough to wage epic battles with you, over petty transgressions, and later kiss you goodnight?

Mom didn't really do that, the bedtime kiss, but I think it would have been reassuring. Does he insist that you dress warmly even if it's not fashionable? In layers? With chicken soup in a canteen in hand?

Has he vouched for your sanity in the face of adversaries? Psychiatric professional adversaries? Would he swear against his God that it's true?

I should hope Mom might have followed through with that one.

Does he promise to stay healthy for as long as he possibly can, to ensure the happiness of you both? To take preventative action against fatal disease?

Mom failed miserably at that. And Dad, these are questions a good father would ask. You would start by asking, “Why can't you find a man more like your mother?”

And I would say, “I have found a man like my mother. And he found a man that my mother never found in you. Me.”