It’s your fault.
They say that all lives have a series of cross-roads. A point in time where the world shifts and your path heads in a direction that you may or may not have anticipated. Your mom and I planned this path, as best we could, but can you really “plan” anything? Upon your arrival – the path was cemented. I spent almost two months sleeping on a chair with you on my chest and had to be reminded that we bought a crib for you to sleep in. Nonsense – it felt better with you close to me. You were so tiny, and I was sure about one thing: having zero idea of what I was doing. Everything was a first for you (and for us). We learned how to do this whole parent/child thing, together. You might not feel it, but you have been my teacher longer than I have been yours. Thank you for your patience as I learned and for the grace you give me for the things I’ve screwed up. You grew into a toddler, then off to school, then off to college, and now – off to your life’s journey. You are passionate, intense, intelligent, caring, and loyal.
It's your fault.
I just mentioned that we had this path planned out, so when we learned that you were joining the party – we knew what to do. Less scared about what this was going to be like and more excited about introducing you to the world. There I go again, making assumptions, and waiting for the universe to remind me that we can plan for nothing. The first tests gave us all the reasons to go back to being scared about what could be. Syndromes, surgeries, and all the things that would make us wonder what we were going to do. I guess we always knew, regardless, it was a simple ask – we’d love you fiercely and have faith that all would work out. Your surgeries were painful (more for you than me), but your endurance is what shined. You were given a gift of patience and you embraced the power of calm (at such a young age). Everything from school to athletics to friendships were second nature to you. You grew into a toddler, then off to school, then off to college, and now – you prep for internships and the back half of your collegiate career. You are disciplined, driven, thoughtful, and intelligent.
It’s your fault.
By the time you arrived, we were already exhausted from practices, games, clubs, and family commitments. Even though we’d been through this two times before, I’m dumb enough to continue thinking that we’d be able to figure this out – after all, third time’s the charm. This is where the universe does its thing, again. You arrived. I knew what it was like to have two boys, so when the doctors announced, “it’s a girl” – I let out a different kind of cry. You’re my baby and my daughter and you’re also the one who had to deal with being dragged to event after event, less posed pictures, more independence thrust upon you and you know what – you remedied our exhaustion and gave us the energy for a whole new adventure and you gave me a new title – Girl Dad (like Girl Math, right?!?). You were the perfect mix to complete our family. Your independence is insane. Your discipline, too. Skating, horses, friends, amazing grades. You grew into a toddler, then off to school, now off to Senior Year in High School and then – your path awaits its choosing.
What you all have in common – is my path is your fault. My privilege of being able to be celebrated on Father’s Day is your fault. You have each impacted me in ways you’ll never quite understand and for that, I’m so blessed.
God bless all of you- and may He send peace to you during your times on this planet.
Much love- Your Dad
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