"Remember, I want you..."

When my youngest son was learning to put himself to sleep, my wife and I used various methods to make that easier on him. At first, we would lay on the floor while he went to sleep. He'd know that we were there, but we kept our distance. Then we started limiting the time that we stayed with him and he'd finish his journey with the Sandman by himself. In the last stage of staying with him, I had moved to his doorway, half closed, and read my books. This made my walking away a little more subtle and quiet. During that transition away from his more direct sight, he would often times remind me that he wanted me to stay with him while he fell asleep, not to leave.

We've moved on from the need for so much comfort and security when it's bedtime, but every night, he still reminds me, "Dad, remember, I want you..." I say "I know..." and walk quietly out of his room and on to my other nighttime duties.

Though he's repeated this to me for many months now, for some reason I started thinking about it more thoughtfully last night. I know I'm reading more into it than he's intending, but taken more to heart, he wants me to do more than stay with him while he goes to sleep. He wants me to be there for him when he scrapes his knee. He wants me to play games with him. He wants me to go on a bike ride with him. He wants me to tickle him and laugh with him. He wants me to teach him to read. He wants me to watch him grow up. He wants me to teach him to drive and see him get married and play with HIS kids.

Maybe he's not thinking that far into the future. Does he know what's in store for him in the future. I doubt he has any clue.

Maybe it's because I'm re-reading Randy Pausch's book, and fearing my own mortality.

Whatever the reason, "I remember...And I want you too son..."