My Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, has blessed me so much more than I deserve.
He led me through the ups and downs and twists and turns to the most amazing woman in the world, Amy Morales. (You may think “the most amazing woman in the world” is someone else, but this is my blog and I say the most amazing woman in the world is Amy!) He gave me two terrific parents who are loving and generous to me and loving and dedicated to each other and their marriage. I have a terrific extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins, my cousins’ children, and Amy’s two daughters, their respective husbands and their currently developing babies. I have a number of great friends. I’ve never been without food or shelter. And there are the billions upon gazillions of other blessings I have no clue He’s given me.
As fantastic as each of those blessings are, none of them compares to the gift He gave me 12 years ago today: my son, Nikolas.
Nikolas Scott William Daravanis was born at 11:40 a.m. May 10, 2000. My life has never been the same.
He has made me laugh so many times, like the day he stopped me in my tracks while I was heading toward the bathroom. Parents know that during the potty-training stage, they will go blue in the face asking “Do you have to go potty?” This particular day, Nik and I were about to go to the town’s park and before we left the house, I said “Do you have to go potty?” He didn’t but I did, so I told my son who was standing at the door waiting for me, “Well Daddy does, so when I’m done, we’ll go (to the park).” At that moment, this 3-foot tall 3-year-old suddenly came up with a deep James-Earl-Jones-type voice and said, “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
Nik also is the source of my favorite two word phrase. Whenever I would come home from work, the first thing I would hear is “Daddy’s Home!” I’ve lived in a couple of places since then, but every time I cross the front door threshold, I hear in my mind “Daddy’s Home!” What followed, however, was not so great. Nik would run as fast as he could from the back room to the front door to hug me. How is that not great, you ask? At 4-years-old, Nik was just the right height that his forehead was on the same level as my crotch. I had two choices. I either got out of the way like a matador evading a charging bull, which would result in Nik plowing into the front door, or I scoop him up before he had me “singing soprano.” I chose the latter, although I didn’t always succeed.
I spend more time worrying about Nik than anything else these days, not because of what Nik does or says, but because of the selfish acts of his mother. In 2005, she broke her promises to me and her vows to God and destroyed our family unit. I’ve written numerous times the damage a boy growing up without his father’s physical presence causes. Studies from multiple and unrelated sources show drug, alcohol and cigarette use and criminal activity increase and self-esteem and educational success decline when children are raised in broken homes. I am doing what I can to help Nik buck that trend. I call him at least once a week, I never end our conversation without telling Nik that I love him, and I do not hang up before he does. And I never, ever miss a visitation period no matter what the sacrifice.
Because I live in Arizona and Nik lives primarily in Indiana, he and I are physically together only 9 weeks per year – one week at Christmas, one week during his school’s Spring Break and seven during the summer. Nine weeks equals 63 days – 63 out of 365 days per year that I can hug, kiss, mentor, coach and be an example and inspiration for Nik. I strive to make every second of those 63 days valuable and memorable. I’m thankful that he is appreciating my efforts.
He will occasionally send me an e-mail or text that says “I love you, dad.” This past March when he had the flu and wasn’t feeling good, he called me and said “Whenever I talk to you, I feel better, so that’s why I called.” I am so very, very blessed.
The Bible tells us that we should place our troubles upon the shoulders of the Lord and not worry. I’m really trying to follow that directive, but I still worry about the future. We do not know what will happen tomorrow, but there is one eternal fact.
Nikolas will always be my son and I will always be his dad.
