After a busy day at work – I rushed home to get as many chores done as possible before dark. I pulled into our driveway and called for my daughter, who was at her grandmother’s house in the back. I explained to her that we had things to do and that I needed her help. She initially freaked out about having to do homework, but I told her it would be ok to take a break from homework tonight.
Up first was a trip to the park with the dogs.
“Let’s go by the school instead,” she said. So we did. Our daughters’ school is attached to a massive plot of land where we sometimes take the dogs to sniff around and chase frisbees and balls. When we arrived, there were some boys on the playground. I drove to a remote area of the field and we unloaded the beasts. At that point, the boys started to run toward us. Naturally.
“Ok, well, we don’t really want other kids back here, missy, we just need to stretch the dogs out.” I said.
“I know, Daddy.” she replied. And then, in the direction of the boys running our way, she shouted, “STAY AWAY FROM HERE, AARON! JUST GO BACK.” The boy at the front of the pack heading toward us did exactly as she commanded. Without hesitation. We walked to the back of the park, exercised the dogs and talked. At one point I just stood looking at her as she chased the little dog in the field. She turns 11 next month. I took her to get her braces on Tuesday. It was there, after sitting next to her for two hours staring at the side of her face, that I noticed slight imperfections in her complexion. Hormones are starting to bubble. She’s changing into a beautiful young girl. And it’s fine. I am not trying to hold on. It’s good enough just to be a presence for her as she climbs her way up the slippery walls of childhood and into adolescence.
Walking back to me from where she was with the dog, I saw her age. Every step, a year. By the time she’d reached me, she was 25. We walked, slowly, back to the truck and loaded up the dogs. As we left the school she told me about a boy.
“It’s the reason I wanted to come here tonight, instead of the park.” she said. She told me his name, and that he was indeed on the playground.
“Was he one of the boys running over to us?” I inquired.
“Yes. But not Aaron.” She said. “Anyway, I just wanted him to see me with my dogs.” She went on to tell me a little about him, and I didn’t get jealous. I knew this day would come. But in the span of two days, I feel like I’ve watched her change more than at any point in her life. She confided in me about the boy. I felt good about that. Like I’d done something right. Which is surprising, really. Before she was born I didn’t even like kids.
Now I can’t imagine life without them. My wife and daughters absolutely make me a better man.
Then, as we pulled into our driveway, she randomly said, “I really love you, Daddy.”
And my heart jumped out of my chest.
***
Will Conley
Jan 26, 2012
Sheesh, this post sells me on the idea of being a dad. Nice work.
I take it that’s your daughter with the great smile, there.
Jim Mitchem
Jan 27, 2012
Yes. Pre-braces – last summer.
Steve B
Jan 27, 2012
Once again, raising the bar.
writemo
Jan 27, 2012
Awwww. You’re such a great dad, Jim.
Nichole Brown
Jan 27, 2012
<3
nichole
Jan 28, 2012
A wonderful story, Jim. You clearly have a wonderful relationship with your daughters.
My oldest is only 7, but I can already see so many changes this year. I’m really enjoying watching these little guys become little men.
Jim Mitchem
Jan 29, 2012
Thanks, Nichole. It really is something. And I’m surprised at how their changes interact with my own.
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Jan 29, 2012
[…] a writer. I like to share stories. And I’m not half bad. But when I write blog posts about my daughter getting braces and the real, human effect of that on me as a parent, it’s not nearly as important to the world as an expert who posts “5 ways to gain more […]
Shelly Kramer
Jan 29, 2012
Beautiful post, Jim. And it didn’t make me cry, instead it made me smile. You see, I’ve been there once already. I’ve raised two beautiful girls. Have made it through high school and teenage hormones and it was a delightful time – I loved every moment of it. And then I sent them to college. Two years ago, I held my oldest daughter’s hand as she had HER first baby. What a moment. A year ago, I sent my next youngest off on job #3 in her career in advertising. This job, however, took her from ‘home’ near us, to the big city of Chicago, one of her dreams. That’s a journey … and one that makes me so proud of her. She’s loving every minute of it, and totally kicking ass and making a name for herself in a career that I (unknowingly) taught her to love), and we love that. But we still miss her dearly and struggle not seeing her every Sunday night for family dinner. And now, I’m raising another set of girls – twins who turn six on this coming Friday. And so I know very well how quickly it flies by. I never pass up a moment of snuggling, hugging, or an opportunity to hold a hand or hear a secret. Because I know that all too soon they grow up. And everything changes. It’s still good – it’s always good. But different.
Treasure these moments, my friend. They are the things that make life worth living. But then, you already knew that.
Shelly
Jim Mitchem
Jan 29, 2012
I can’t imagine what’s in store in the future, Shelly. I just hope that whatever it is, it’s half as successful as yours has been. Thank you.
Lee Porter
Jan 30, 2012
Great post. Went thru this the other day with my oldest daughter. Involved our dog, too. She told my wife his name. Wouldn’t tell me – I’m not to know.
Reading a few of your other post, I hope you don’t go dark on twitter, because I’d miss your point of view on things. And your writing is always active. You are one of the few ad guys I like reading because your BS sensor is set very low.
lee p.
Sue Jepson
Jan 31, 2012
You never stop ‘seeing’ your children,. Even at 25 yrs old with the cares and worries of a mum of two small children herself, helping our daughter and husband move house yesterday in all the mess and muddle, I can see our daughter as both the child we knew and the young woman with love, smiles and care for her own children. I notice her playfulness with the children, her clear delight in their characters, obvious in her eyes as she smiles.
Thank you for reminding me to reflect on these aspects of yesterday. I am always touched by seeing my daughter’s love for her own children, yet with the being caught up in the mess and muddle of yesterday I might have let me own worries push that memory of yesterday out of my mind.
Sharing the personal side of ourselves is not always done readily, but with the encouragement of others we may find that it occurs more often. I think you have a role to play in this area, Jim. I hope you don’t ‘go into the dark.’
Sue
My novel – Minor King
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