The shrill sound of a baby screaming was heard
through the baby monitor. "Hush, who is crying here," he soothed the baby with his velvet voice while he approached the small bed in which his son lay. He bent down, placed his left hand under the head
and his right hand under the body of the little baby and raised him carefully
out of his bed. Full of astonishment and awe, he looked down at
the tiny creature in his hands. His wife, pushed with all her strength for the
last time, her face distorted from the strain and pain. Suddenly they saw a tiny head push it's way out. The child was still blue from the birth and the
head was a little deformed but it was the most beautiful sight in the
world to him -- his first cry, the most beautiful melody he had ever heard.
He was a father, he really was a father! He, Peter Caine, had a son! Over and over, whenever he looked down at the tiny
wonder in his hands, Peter felt tears of joy come to his eyes, he couldn't
help it. He was so proud of this tiny bundle which already
had captured his heart the first second he laid eyes on him. The crying of the tiny toddler got more frantic.
Meanwhile the little head was crimson as the little fists waved wildly
in the air. "Hush . Come on my little boy, everything is looking good. Mommy has fed you, your diapers are dry, so why are you crying?" he said in a soothing, questioning voice. The baby didn't answer, after all he was just a
week old. Peter laughed softly. Once more the baby stopped crying. Peter couldn't resist the urge to caress the soft
fluffy hair on the baby's head. A deep breath raised Peter's chest. "Okay my little guy, then I will tell you
a story till you have fallen asleep again. For a short moment Peter paused and closed his
eyes. Contradictory feelings were reflected in his features. For a moment he didn't know how he should begin,
but then the words bubbled right out of him. "Do you have any idea what kind of family
you were born into? No, you don't. So I will tell you: We are anything
but ordinary. A deep sigh escaped from Peter's throat, and a deep sadness was mirrored in his features. "I hope you will have more time to learn everything from my father than I had. Perhaps you will even be the reason that your grandpa finally gives up his travels and stays home. Well, I didn't have that much time with my father. Tears ran freely down Peter's cheeks. His voice was filled with emotion, and he had to clear his throat before he could continue. "I missed him so much my baby. Not a day,
or a minute, or second passed that I didn't think of him. I wasn't Peter Caine, the son of Kwai Chang Caine, anymore. Now I was the poor orphan boy who was suddenly thrown into a world which was entirely foreign to me. My life in the temple had been so completely different. I had nothing more to hold on to. I had lost all my friends. All I had left was my name. My "real" mother already had died a long
time ago and now pop was no longer there either. I felt this emptiness
inside myself which nobody could fill. He and his family really have done everything for
me. They were always there for me and gave me all their love and affection
but they couldn't fill this gigantic painful gap in my life. With Annie, your grandma, it was easy because I
had never known my mother. I was simply too young when she died. Paul and Annie have two daughters: Kelly and Caroline, your Aunts. They understood me and I feel like they are my real sisters. But with Paul
well
was another thing. Somehow I always had a fear that if I considered
Paul my father, I would forget my real father. Again Peter took a small break to collect himself. He stroked his thumb lovingly over the little fingers which still were clasped tightly around his middle finger. Oddly enough, he felt a renewed strength just from this small touch of his sons hand, to be able to continue. "You can't guess how happy and at the same
time terrified I was to suddenly stand in front of my real father after
fifteen years of pain and suffering. Peter stopped for a brief moment, breathed a tender kiss on the forehead of the baby which was lying there now completely quiet. "I really thought everything would get better
now that he was back, but I was mistaken. Soon, I felt torn inside. I felt myself pulled
from one world into another and I couldn't do a thing to change that. Look, he has this strange habit of expressing himself in cryptic phrases, and he so seldom shows emotions that I often didn't know how to interpret that. I really wish that just once he would give me a normal answer to a question. Because of that, I felt he thought it would have been better if we were never reunited. My little boy, don't misunderstand me now, please.
I love him with all my heart but it is like a double-edged sword. Can you believe that he has gone on wanderings
without saying good-bye to me at all? Can you imagine how that made me
feel? I can tell you: Completely worthless. Peter swallowed hard around the lump which had formed in his throat. He gently squeezed his son to him. "My son I promise you, that no matter what happens, I never, ever, will leave you alone. If you have problems or worries, then you will always be able to come to me. I will never push you away from me. No matter what, I promise you right here and now, I will always be here for you. You will never have to experience what I have gone
through. I will do everything in my power to make sure of that. When you mourn for your first love, then I will
be with you. I will sit next to you and comfort you. I will tell you what
it was like for me, when my heart was first broken. We will cook up tricks
together to annoy your mother and we will laugh about it together. I am so glad to have you my son. You have brought a joy into my life that I am not able to put into words. I will always appreciate having you, my most precious gift. You will always be someone very special to me. And I am really afraid, too. I have a fear of failing
you. A fear that I can't manage all the things I resolved to do for you.
Fear of not being the father that you would like. Peter stopped his long talk. He looked down at
his son who peacefully slept in his arms. *There is still so much to say, but there will be time later on. Several years to tell the truth,* he thought slightly amused. Peter kissed his son on the forehead before he
carefully put him back in bed. For the last time that night, Peter pulled the
blanket a little more tightly around his son and leaned over to whisper
into his ear: With these words Peter turned round, wiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hand and left the room on tip toe. Curious and anxious at the same time wondering what the future might bring for them ... ... ... The End
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