From the diaries of an expectant man
من مذكرات رجل على شفا الأبوّة

Today we saw you for the third time. The ultrasound showed us your beating heart, exercising to get you on your own once you're out in this world.
They measured your head, your spine, your legs.
They looked at your face, your kidneys, and your stomach.

This is a great gift for your mother's birthday (tomorrow).

The nurse said you are most probably a boy.
A boy!

All kind of images came to my mind.
My father and me: holding my hand by the Alexandria shore. Telling me stories: stories about sea.. about waves.. about infinity..

I too want to hold your hand. I really want to hug you as little a baby as you will be, to walk with you when you become a little child, to tell you stories about this world and all the worlds.
I want you to fly with the wings of imagination,
to run untamed, but safe.
I know--and I keep repeating it--that you're not mine. You're nobody's. You are yourself and you only belong to Him who is your source and your destiny.

I dream of seeing you grow up. I see you running by the sea shore... Looking at the infinity, sailing everywhere, asking what is beyond this sea.. beyond that sky.
I am sorry. I cannot spare you from my personal imagination. I know you may be totally different. I know you may be hyperactive, athletic, and you may hate staring at the sea. I love you for that and I will respect it, or so I hope. You are not my extrapolation, nor my shadow.
However, I cannot but see you with my eyes. Tomorrow you will teach me another lesson about love.
You will teach me another tough one about respect.
But today… let me dream for a while.

I know I cannot keep you safe. I cannot hide you in my wings, although I wish I could. But, after all, who am I to protect you? I cannot even protect myself. It is hard for you to hear this from your father: your ultimate model, according to the know-it-all psychologists. But I cannot lie to you. Only one can protect you: He who I wish will take your hands all along your life course. He whom I wish you meet and learn to love, and I am sure you will. He will never abandon you, in the heart of the toughest pain.

I have to let you go, step by step, slowly, without escaping a bit my responsibility, to chaperone you until you reach the point where you continue your trip alone.

My son... (My son! Wow! How does it sound?)