Almost 18 years ago, we brought this girl home—weighed about seven pounds eleven ounces, slept a lot, pooped a lot. Played this game where she’d just start crying and you’d have to figure out why without any clues–which, now that I think about it, is pretty much still how it goes.
So, yeah, that’s when the best part of my life started.
People scare you about having kids. People like to scare you about having kids. But they get the scary bits wrong. They get the sleepless nights wrong. (You adapt.) They get the lack of money thing wrong. (Again, you adapt.) They get the endless playdates and birthday parties wrong. (Your nails will get painted by a sugar-crazed, swarming gaggle of giggling little girls. Both hands. With freaking glitter! God, I miss those days.)
But that girl graduated high school last Friday. So I was reminded about one of the scary parts of having kids that actually is scary: you get to bring them home but you don’t get to keep them.
I’m going to miss this part of our lives—the part where she’s around all the time. People talk too much about the sacrifices that come with having kids and not enough about what you get back. I got to hear her first laugh. I watched as she learned my language since we clearly weren’t smart enough to learn hers. She has taught me far more than I have taught her. She reminded me how to be a better human being. She has taught me how to be the Dad she needed me to be.
Now it’s time for her to go off and do things I can’t do and think things I haven’t thunk. We teach them to walk and spend the rest of our lives trying to catch up as they run. But there is something we learn along the way: the job is to build them up so well that they no longer need you, but the reward–if you do it right–is finding out they always will.
Happy Dad’s Day to all of you trying to do the job, whether you’re called “Dad” or not.
Lovely message
Thank you!