73- a soft place to land

I watched you, on the day you were born, blink your big blue eyes wide and look up at me. You cried and I felt the pain you felt in my heart, and I knew you were part of me.

I watched you as you took your first lurching step, your eyes darting back to me, filled with wonder and fear, trepidation and celebration.

I heard your squeal as I released your bicycle seat for the first time, running down the street behind you and you realized you were on your own, free in the world, in charge of your own destiny.

I watched you in your tiny school clothes and your big girl book bag, with the pencils you had counted a hundred times the night before, march proudly up the steps of Mount Gallant Elementary school that first day of school.

I measured your height twice a year since you could stand, in two different houses, carefully marking the board I keep under the sideboard in the dining room

I watched you take the stage for plays and chorus concerts over the years, and

I watched you when you took the stages of your life with girlfriends and boyfriends, driving lessons and proms, first jobs and broken hearts. 

I have seen the posters on your wall change and your music evolve over the years. I celebrated your new favorite song with me.

And I watched as you grew into a woman. I was there when your young man waltzed you away one Prom night, and I was there checking to make sure you had made it home as you slept the next day.

And I watched for years as you danced though my life, your energy and love, joy, heartbreaks, passions and sadness, swirling all around our home and my heart and through my head. 

And I watch as you move away from us now, into your own life apart. I am so proud to call you Daughter. And no matter what you do, no matter where you go, no matter whom you are with, I will be thinking of you. No matter what mistakes you make in the world, you cannot help but win my approval for your efforts.

In a note my father wrote to me soon after you were born, he advised me to let you make your own mistakes. He told me I could help you after you make them and I can be a soft place for you to land, but you could only learn from making your own mistakes. So I will always be here for you, a soft place to land if ever you need one.

And know that I will always be somewhere, watching you live and wishing you well in all that you endeavor to do.

A Dad

Graduation 2002