Duncan Soup – A Dish of Duncan Discourse

At 11:21 p.m.  on a balmy night in August, my life changed forever.  Theo Rémy Allen Duncan didn’t have the easiest arrival in the world, but all was forgotten when I saw him for the first time.  There are few things in life that can compare with the birth of a child: an unconditional love that never fades and even strengthens over the years.

All fathers and sons have a special time together and ours is going to the train station.  Theo and I do it at least once a week and I continue to smile as he stares at the engines with such fascination.  Below is something I wrote for him on an earlier birthday.  I’m glad it still applies today.

Happy 6^th Birthday, Little Guy.  I love you with all of my heart.

Train Tracking
For Theo on his 3rd birthday.  Love, Dad

When you need to go and when you need to run;
When you need something different to have a little fun

When you must shake the shackles of being in the house;
When you flame of boredom needs an extra douse

There is something simple that the two of us can do;
To add more color to your day, change it from only blue

Grab your shoes, get you coat, kiss your mom goodbye;
Out the door, on the street, we’re under the sun and sky

On the left, then the right, around us people pass;
Along with cars and buses going rather fast

But it is no concern of ours, onwards we must go;
In order to be on time for your special show

March on! March on! Cross another street;
 Just a little further to reach your simple treat

More minutes, more steps, my how time flies!
But finally it is there, right before your eyes

Up the lane, through the door, into your special place;
Seeing people scattered, dragging their suitcase

We quickly part the crowd to find the schedule board;
To locate the right platform to discover your reward

There it is!  We must hurry! No time to spare!
Across the hall, up the ramp, we move through the air

At the last stair, a smile crosses your face;
For there it is in front of your, resting in its place

A massive speeding bullet, stretching down the track;
With people entering through its front, as well as in its back

We find a bench and sit, staring up at this great machine;
Waiting for it to finish its stationary routine

The whistle blow, the doors shut, the engine takes on speed;
Pulling from the platform as its wheels are being freed

You laugh and wave as the faces trickle along;
All become a blur as the locomotive hums its song

And when the last car passes, you let out a cry of joy;
For hidden behind it are more pleasures for a boy

Several trains lay before you, the journeys about to start;
While others are arriving from different points of part

Too many trains to see, you don’t know what to do;
Thus, we sit back and watch the engines move on through

You track every train with a smile as it passes you by;
And I write the grin to memory, so it doesn’t fade or die

Soon all have left and we must be on our way;
So we leave the station until another needed day

Hand in hand we walk, back the way we came;
Both content with our unique paternal game

How many more times we’ll play it is anyone’s guess;
But any time you need it, I will always say yes

Soon you’ll move beyond our locomotive fling;
And only look upon it as a silly little thing

To me it will remain special, though not for the train;
But for the joy it brought you when your day was rather plain

Several chapters from now, you’ll come to a page in life;
When my days are cut by time’s aging knife

When this moment comes, many memories we will have shared;
It may be hard to find just one to show you loved and cared

But look deep within and the answer will shine through;
Lighting the best way to keep my memory true

The solution is easy for coping with the grief and pain;
Just grab your son or daughter to go and track a train