I still don't know what love means...or maybe I do

Today I looked at Zo and it struck me that after all these years I still don't know what love is. I struck me strange because I thought that I had it all figured out with her Mom. I guessed that I understood it each and every time that I saw June but then there came this little version of her and it threw me into a bit of confusion. I can't imagine more love than I can with either and yet it's different for both.

Maybe loving Zo will be something that I'll be good at. I know that I can love her mother without even trying, by just rolling over at 3 am and needing to throw my arm around her...not wanting to as much as needing to. I know that I sometimes need to reach across her lap in search of her hand, or catch a glance. Sometimes I have to feel the weight of her pride and attention, often of her approval. I don't try to find these things but rather, they find me. I'm good at that. I wonder how good I'll be at loving Zo.

Sometimes I question myself, how good I am at all this Daddy stuff... and then I make her giggle and smile, or like today, I catch her staring back at me a dozen times each minute, searching for my attention, even my approval, and without even trying love has found me. Then I think that this is something I think that I'll be good at. I might not understand it, but I can be good at it.

I think every Dad is supposed to question his ability to do that, and then feel confident that the answer will find them without even trying. I still don't know what love means but I think I can be good at it anyway.