Thoughts of a father

The shrill sound of a baby screaming was heard through the baby monitor.
A loud, continuously yawning announced the father had woken up. With difficulty he sat up, stopped a moment to become more fully awake and then he shuffled with tired steps in the newly made child's room.
Yesterday they finally had been allowed to take the little squaller home and everything had already changed around the house.

"Hush, who is crying here," he soothed the baby with his velvet voice while he approached the small bed in which his son lay.


He bent down, placed his left hand under the head and his right hand under the body of the little baby and raised him carefully out of his bed.
Comforting the still crying baby in a quiet and calming voice, he sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the room and started to rock gently.

Full of astonishment and awe, he looked down at the tiny creature in his hands.
His thoughts drifted back to the last minutes of his baby's birth.

His wife, pushed with all her strength for the last time, her face distorted from the strain and pain.
The voice of the doctor: "Here he comes."

Suddenly they saw a tiny head push it's way out.
A short time later the shoulders and the torso followed and then he was there.
A small wrinkly something, bloodstained and connected with the umbilical cord to his mother.


The child was still blue from the birth and the head was a little deformed but it was the most beautiful sight in the world to him -- his first cry, the most beautiful melody he had ever heard.
He still had trouble believing that he was finally here.

He was a father, he really was a father! He, Peter Caine, had a son!

Over and over, whenever he looked down at the tiny wonder in his hands, Peter felt tears of joy come to his eyes, he couldn't help it.
Pride, joy and the deepest fear whirled through his head.

He was so proud of this tiny bundle which already had captured his heart the first second he laid eyes on him.
Joy from this wonderful present which he had received from his wife.
Fear, this perfect happiness could be shattered somewhere down the road.

The crying of the tiny toddler got more frantic. Meanwhile the little head was crimson as the little fists waved wildly in the air.
Peter was pulled out of his thoughts. He smiled lightly and cradled the baby more tightly to his chest.

"Hush…. Come on my little boy, everything is looking good. Mommy has fed you, your diapers are dry, so why are you crying?" he said in a soothing, questioning voice.

The baby didn't answer, after all he was just a week old.
However, as he spoke in his soothing voice, the baby suddenly stopped crying.
Big, innocent child eyes stared at him as if they recognize what the father told him.
Peter had hardly completed that thought when the little boy once more began to cry.

Peter laughed softly.
"I see, I think I know what you want. You feel all alone in your bed, don't you? Is it too quiet for you? You must miss your Mom. Am I right?" he asked

Once more the baby stopped crying.
The little fingers of the right hand closed tightly around Peter's middle finger.
It almost seemed as if the tiny baby understood all that he said and agreed with him.

Peter couldn't resist the urge to caress the soft fluffy hair on the baby's head.
He couldn't get enough of his child. He had to touch, to smell, to pamper and to cuddle him again and again.
Once more he instinctively cuddled the little boy and held him closer to his body

A deep breath raised Peter's chest.


"Okay my little guy, then I will tell you a story till you have fallen asleep again.
Do you know what? Well, actually I didn't want to tell you until you were older and could understand better, but I don't think there will be any harm done if I tell you now."

For a short moment Peter paused and closed his eyes. Contradictory feelings were reflected in his features.

There was so much to say, so much to do, so much to teach.

For a moment he didn't know how he should begin, but then the words bubbled right out of him.
His long dialog started.

"Do you have any idea what kind of family you were born into? No, you don't. So I will tell you: We are anything but ordinary.
Just take pop. He is a Shambala master. What this is I'll explain later.
He is a man who holds himself back a lot, both talking and expressing his feeling, but you should have seen how happy he was when you were born into this world.
I never have seen your grandpa so full of joy as he was that very moment. You actually made him cry. He can barely wait to teach you all that he knows. And I can tell you: This will last a very, very long time.

Not even I have learned everything he knows yet."

A deep sigh escaped from Peter's throat, and a deep sadness was mirrored in his features.

"I hope you will have more time to learn everything from my father than I had. Perhaps you will even be the reason that your grandpa finally gives up his travels and stays home.

Well, I didn't have that much time with my father.
I was barely twelve years old when the temple where we lived, was destroyed, and I was separated from him. For fifteen years I thought your grandpa was dead, then we were finally reunited."

Tears ran freely down Peter's cheeks. His voice was filled with emotion, and he had to clear his throat before he could continue.

"I missed him so much my baby. Not a day, or a minute, or second passed that I didn't think of him.
I felt so alone, so abandoned, so empty inside. Nothing was the way I had known it.

I wasn't Peter Caine, the son of Kwai Chang Caine, anymore. Now I was the poor orphan boy who was suddenly thrown into a world which was entirely foreign to me. My life in the temple had been so completely different. I had nothing more to hold on to. I had lost all my friends. All I had left was my name.

My "real" mother already had died a long time ago and now pop was no longer there either. I felt this emptiness inside myself which nobody could fill.
Not even Paul, your other grandpa and my foster father, who had taken me out of that hell hole orphanage, could fill the void inside of me.

He and his family really have done everything for me. They were always there for me and gave me all their love and affection but they couldn't fill this gigantic painful gap in my life.
Somehow I always felt guilty because I knew that I could never give back the love to them, that they so freely gave to me.

With Annie, your grandma, it was easy because I had never known my mother. I was simply too young when she died.
Because of that, it was easy for me to accept her as my mother.

Paul and Annie have two daughters: Kelly and Caroline, your Aunts. They understood me and I feel like they are my real sisters.

But with Paul … well … was another thing.
How can I explain this to you my little boy, so you can understand?

Somehow I always had a fear that if I considered Paul my father, I would forget my real father.
Paul is more than a foster father to me, he's my best friend. I merely didn't want to deny my own father. Paul has understood this, at least I think he does, but sometimes I think it hurt him.

I wish he could be here as well, but he is somewhere else chasing demons and I don't know if he will ever come back. He has been gone for so long now. But I just know he would be so proud of you."

Again Peter took a small break to collect himself. He stroked his thumb lovingly over the little fingers which still were clasped tightly around his middle finger. Oddly enough, he felt a renewed strength just from this small touch of his sons hand, to be able to continue.

"You can't guess how happy and at the same time terrified I was to suddenly stand in front of my real father after fifteen years of pain and suffering.
I trembled, cried, laughed, and was furious because of the unnecessary separation. I felt all these emotions at the same time.
The meeting with him was like balm for the gaping, open wound in my heart.
Unfortunately, this feeling of happiness didn't last very long."

Peter stopped for a brief moment, breathed a tender kiss on the forehead of the baby which was lying there now completely quiet.

"I really thought everything would get better now that he was back, but I was mistaken.
I can tell you, your grandpa is a very extraordinary man. You will find that out as soon as you're old enough.
I had already lived for a long time in this Christian world, far away from everything your grandpa had taught me, that I didn't know how I should cope with this new situation.
Your grandpa still kept all the values which he had taught me in the temple for himself, and he still believes in them. Because of that he certainly sticks out in our western civilization.

Soon, I felt torn inside. I felt myself pulled from one world into another and I couldn't do a thing to change that.
Your grandpa hasn't helped much to change this.

Look, he has this strange habit of expressing himself in cryptic phrases, and he so seldom shows emotions that I often didn't know how to interpret that. I really wish that just once he would give me a normal answer to a question. Because of that, I felt he thought it would have been better if we were never reunited.

My little boy, don't misunderstand me now, please. I love him with all my heart but it is like a double-edged sword.
Pop was mostly there when I needed him. He risked his life for me without thinking of his own safety. And believe me, this happened a lot. I was far too reckless and often had to be rescued by him or others.
But this strong feeling which Pop and I shared with each other in the temple, simply was no longer there. This feeling of being permanently pushed away by him, I just couldn't get over it. Even though I know I was wrong in that assumption.

Can you believe that he has gone on wanderings without saying good-bye to me at all? Can you imagine how that made me feel? I can tell you: Completely worthless.
I mean: How much am I worth to my own father if he doesn't even consider it necessary to say good-bye to his own son when he disappears for months?"

Peter swallowed hard around the lump which had formed in his throat. He gently squeezed his son to him.

"My son I promise you, that no matter what happens, I never, ever, will leave you alone. If you have problems or worries, then you will always be able to come to me. I will never push you away from me. No matter what, I promise you right here and now, I will always be here for you.


You will never have to experience what I have gone through. I will do everything in my power to make sure of that.
We will play football together, I will show you how to skate. I will teach you all you have to know in order to survive in this world, and your grandpa will also help.

When you mourn for your first love, then I will be with you. I will sit next to you and comfort you. I will tell you what it was like for me, when my heart was first broken. We will cook up tricks together to annoy your mother and we will laugh about it together.
I know that we will argue sometime as well, this is bound to happen. But for every day with rain a day with sunshine will follow. So your grandpa would say.

I am so glad to have you my son. You have brought a joy into my life that I am not able to put into words. I will always appreciate having you, my most precious gift. You will always be someone very special to me.

And I am really afraid, too. I have a fear of failing you. A fear that I can't manage all the things I resolved to do for you. Fear of not being the father that you would like.
I mean: What, if I am not able to clearly explain the things to you in the way that I mean them? What, if you misunderstand me and you feel pushed away by me? What, if something happens to you and I am not there in time to help you? So many unforeseen things can happen to you. I don't even want to think about it."

Peter stopped his long talk. He looked down at his son who peacefully slept in his arms.

A happy smile, despite the somber thoughts, illuminated Peter's face. Cautiously he got up of the rocking chair and carried him to his little bed.

There is still so much to say, but there will be time later on. Several years to tell the truth, he thought slightly amused.

Peter kissed his son on the forehead before he carefully put him back in bed.
For several minutes he stared spellbound down at the little baby, completely in awe and caught in his emotions at this peaceful sight. He didn't even notice that his wife watched him from the door frame, half hidden in the shadows.
The feelings also were clear on her face. She had overheard every single word, Peter had said to their son. Now, she quietly went back to their bedroom to give Peter more time alone with the baby.

For the last time that night, Peter pulled the blanket a little more tightly around his son and leaned over to whisper into his ear:
"I love you my son. Whatever may come, I will always be with you. Whether spiritually or physical, I will protect and lead you. Always remember that, even if, heaven forbid, we should be separated, like your grandpa and I were.
Hold on tightly to the love that I feel for you and you will never be alone."

With these words Peter turned round, wiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hand and left the room on tip toe. Curious and anxious at the same time wondering what the future might bring for them ... ... ...

The End