Thinking about the Future

This poem came to mind today.  I'm unsure why.  It will be years before this is relevant in our lives.  We were painting the boys' room, and I was thinking of future reflecting on the past.  I hope the author does not mind me sharing.

To My Son's Girlfriend

by Michael Miburn

I'm tempted to ask
what you see in him.
Although you probably 
see the good that I see
I wonder if you realize
how much he is my handiwork,
or which of the qualities 
you daydream about in class
are the ones that I take pride in,
his cordiality, for example,
or love of silliness.

It's uncomfortable for me
to think of anyone else
loving him the way I do,
possessing him in a way
that only his mother and I 
have ever possessed him,
and I can't deny being jealous,
not so much reluctant
to share or relinquish him
as resolved to remind you
that he's been around
longer than your love,
under construction if you will,
and that each cute trait
or whatever occurs to you
when you hear his name
I feel proprietary about,
like a woodworker
who makes a table
intending to sell it
but prays that no buyer
will recognize its worth.