“Please stand as you are able for the reading of the gospel.”
We stood, and my son, Ben, put his hand over mine as we listened to two stories about healing from Mark 5:21-43. I didn’t notice or think anything about it at first. But then it struck me: How many fourteen-year-old boys hold their father’s hand?
Ben isn’t a particularly touchy-feely individual. Yet his action came naturally and voluntary. It was without pretense or manipulation. That Ben would feel free to express himself in such a way made me feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I thought of my relationship with my father. I had great respect for him. However, at fourteen it would have never occurred to me to touch him.
I’ve never been a big fan of poetry, probably because I’ve never been good at writing it. Hopefully, the picture I recreated of the moment (with Ben’s cooperation) will be the semblance of a poem.