A Confession (Part 5)

Seemingly overnight I have gone from being the father of a young girl to being the father of a young lady. Gone is daddy’s little girl and in her place is a young vibrant, intelligent, beautiful, young - I hesitate to say it - woman. There it is, it’s out in the open now, the proverbial cat is out of the bag and now instead of dancing around the six hundred pound gorilla in the middle of the room I have to deal with it…but how?

I remember when my daughter was just my little girl. The one who ran to me when she fell and skinned her knee, wanting only daddy to take the pain away. The one who smashed her finger in a car door and wouldn’t stop crying until I got there from work to make it all better. The one who came creeping in the bedroom looking for comfort and security when thunder woke her in the night. The one who fell asleep in my arms and looked so precious and innocent as she breathed the deep sounds of sleep that only one who feels utterly protected can breathe.

Now she is growing up. She no longer looks to daddy for all of the things mentioned above, well some of them, but not all. She now talks about boys and makeup and things I can’t begin to understand. When she gets dressed up to go out she no longer looks like the child I once held in my arms, she’s grown up. Her hair is just right, her makeup is noticeable but not overbearing. Gone from her clothes are the Barneys and Big Birds of years gone by, and in their place are sequins and beads and the ubiquitous Orlando Bloom. Once she used to dress for dad’s approval, now she dresses for the acceptance of friends and boys.

But just when I thought I was out of the picture…she came to me. Tears were in her eyes as she leaned against my shoulder and cried the tears of rejection. She got into it with one of her friends, or I should say one of her friends decided to get into it with her. Over what? She hasn’t a clue. Such is the life of a teenage girl. But there she was red eyed, teary, and looking to her dad for the comfort that only a dad can give. She sobbed against my chest as she told me what was wrong, and once again I looked down into her blue, watery eyes and saw the face of my little girl. I pushed back a lock of her red hair and kissed her forehead and whispered in her ear, “Daddy’s here sweetheart.” Just like when she skinned her knee, this pain I couldn’t take away either, but it gave her comfort to just know that I was there to listen to her and to hold her, to calm her. I cannot tell you how wonderful it felt to be her daddy again. My heart ached for her as she was learning another life lesson, but at the same time my heart leaped for joy in knowing I was still important to her, I'm still daddy, and I cherish the thought.

The Friar