Tiny musing of a Father and Son

I sit in the darkness. Completely focused on my task at hand as I struggle to keep my eyes open. I watch his eyes scan my face that is illuminated by the Jay Leno show. What must he be thinking of this strange man that is holding this bottle of food for him? I hear my mind wonder if he has yet to master my face and it leads to further wonderment of what I must have thought as my father held the bottle in my mouth. These are the moments that really rack my brain and pull at my heart strings. I am unsure of whether my feelings are normal for all fathers or are they magnified because of my father's death and never being able to talk to him, smell his cologne, listen to his laugh, watch him cheer for our teams, or look into his eyes. I am positive of one thing and that is when my little boy is finished with his bottle and he places his hand on my cheek it is the time when my heart that was shattered into a billion pieces puts itself together again.