This page consists of prayers, poems and stories written by Chris that have not been published into the market, but are free to read. Enjoy.
Me (Poetry) 2024
When you see a bird, standing atop a tall tree, carefree and happy, that is me, for I have ascended above my pain and trouble from the world below. And then, I soar, with the lightest of heart, for the burdens can no longer chain me. I hang them in the sanctuary of Hebe, for I owe no more.
My Special Boy (Poetry, the true story of my son) 2024
The incubator is empty now, but still the relics, pictures of Gods wrapped in hospital bags, and taped to the windows of the crib, now rest in our temple's treasury, a link to both our past and present. But it would sometimes be a fallacy to romanticize our family, for there was nothing poetic about the C-Section, the constant, daily fear of finding an empty bed, the dark struggles through the labyrinth of a premature birth, and a life of obstacles ahead, but you, my little Theseus, braved the Minotaur always.
With each passing week, the terrors of goodbye faded into heaven's brightening light. Only a few drops of milk, they said, but you drank the whole bottle. You would need help breathing, they predicted, but you threw off the ventilator. Not even a brain bleed could outdo the Gods, or shake the resilience of a boy determined to live. The worst chances the doctors gave you, but the Gods overruled. You were not simply another newborn, for your life has defined and changed those of everyone around you.
We were so happy when we were able to take you home. Then, a new set of hardships. I had to learn to be an exceptional father for a special needs son, a new set of unique Labours. Each day, I gave all my strength and support to you, strapping your heart monitor and oxygen tank to my back, and hanging you and your car seat over my arm, as I took you to the doctor each time, to give you the best possible chances to grow stronger. Something few fathers will endure, but my love for you, and the Gods' love for us, was the muscle of my heart, mind and body, that made me determined to never give up on you.
By the year, you excelled, you did everything the doctors said you wouldn't, you let nothing stand in your way, you are the strongest person I have ever known, my trust in a bright future for our family, and all the proof I need of Higher Powers.
I saw you from the beginning, a tiny, 24-week baby flailing about, but now I attend your rites of puberty, as you laugh at the sun on your face, run and play with your dog and classmates, and dive into the banquet tables.
You may not talk a lot, or read the books that most children do, your disabilities may be evident, but they are not defining. Even after your surgery on both legs, you stood up out of the wheelchair and climbed the stairs. You have nothing but strength and undying love for life, though you could find so many reasons to hate it. You are a lesson to all the world.
How could I not be overprotective of you? You're my little boy who I could have lost once, and now I can make sure never again. The world does not get you down, but I will still protect you from it. You're my first choice for a friend at breakfast, lunch or dinner, the one I like to travel with and talk about my day to. I know you love me too, because you walk the halls and call my name when I'm not there.
I held you when you first came out of the hospital, we spent each day on the couch, getting to know each other, and yet, the more time that passed, the more we realized we are alike. You once wore a tiny shirt that read, "Daddy is my hero," and it now hangs in my office, too small for you. But there is one thing I cannot save us all from, the unyielding passage of time.
There will come a day when daddy ages, passes and can't come for you anymore. I won't be there for kisses, cuddles and playtime, you will have to go on without your favorite person in the world. But the relics will still be in the treasury to remind you of your destiny, and that you are never alone.