Tito, Tito, Tito, Mi hijito
Ernestito, ¿Como te va?
Tito, Tito, Tito, ¿Queres leche?
Ernestito, ¿Como estas?
Since March 27th, I find myself making up songs to sing to my new son Tito. The doctor laid him on my belly after the birth. Before then, I wondered sometimes why I had to be born. This thought tied directly to how I always prided myself on not having children. After all, my parents had three before their mid-twenties. The pressure to do the same never convinced me that it was a good thing to have kids. I had questions. Why bring a human being, who has no choice in the matter, into the world? Why have a child just to have a child? What drives parents to hurt their kids?
Jesus, in the gospels, identified love as the greatest commandment. Paul, in 1 Corinthians 13, indicated that without love we are nothing. What does all of this mean? Why do we complicate the words of Jesus and Paul by shrouding love in mystery? Since my son's birth I have arrived at a satisfactory place concerning my unanswerable questions. We are born to love and to be loved. Right now my son is hungry and wants milk. I will feed him. I will catch him smiling as he gets his fill. In that moment, I will know that love is possible.
Tito, Tito, Tito, My little son
Little Ernest, How goes it with you?
Tito, Tito, Tito, Do you want milk?
Little Ernest, How are you?