Father’s Watch

Anthony Vega and Reginald Patterson

Time was proven relative I think, so in many ways, clocks shouldn’t exist. But things exist for a reason, or at least it’s nice to believe that. When my daughter was born I figured she started to exist for a reason and I just kind of went with it. Just like the hands ticking on a clock she just kind of began at one point, but then eventually she just always was. I’m glad for that because if she didn’t exist I’d have nothing to exist for. People need things to wake up for and fall asleep with; it makes telling time seem like a silly thing. My friend Reggie shares this same sentiment. We are experiencing the same moments and trials just with a different clock. I have the modern aesthetics of a 90’s Casio wrist watch. Reggie the air of a vintage vestibule of hands and minutes strung together.  His approach of taking every day at a time sings the song of a simple wispy southern summer of a days gone by. His children benefit from his easy demeanor. He’s watched his sons and daughter grow with idle things in their hands to pieces of monumental human achievement. His relative time has changed the world around him just as it will do to me in the coming years. Someday I’ll forget altogether what being a child is like, and I’ll end up begging her for forgiveness after I yell at her for something stupid.
Though having a child is wonderful, it’s hard to ignore how time takes a silent toll on things. Both my daughter and I will grow as the clocks of the world continue to spin in circles. Just as Reggie and his children have.
It’s hard to take things seriously when time is relative. Everything is small when you compare it to all the time that’s passed, and to all the time to come. I don’t expect anything from my daughter, and honestly I’ll be happy as long as she isn’t an axe murder or something. But for what it’s worth I believe raising her is worth it and that making her was really fun. Reggie shared some wise words with me that I’ll keep in the back of my mind as time takes each day from me. He said, “the beauty of parenting is that once your children get older they learn to appreciate and love you more at the end of the day.”
As time passes the feeling will be two fold between my daughter and me. I appreciate and cherish her sneezes that sound like poetic love notes. Her breath that lingers with a breeze of cinnamon. I’ll be mesmerized as I see cascades of caramel melting in her eyes as she stares into my soul. Daughters.