18 Short Years

18 years ago today, my life changed.

I was a young man fresh out of college starting to find my stride in my new career as a systems engineer. Having a corporate job, wearing a suit, and carrying a briefcase to work everyday was something I had thought about for years. One night after work my wife and I had a discussion about kids.

She wanted to start a family. I was a little apprehensive and felt since I just started my career that we weren’t ready and couldn’t afford it. Then she said something that totally made sense. “You’ll never really be ready to have kids.”

That was it. She was right.

18 years ago today, my first daughter was born.

She was anxious to enter this world and she decided to make her appearance early. And, to add to the drama, she decided to rotate at the last moment making a Cesarean birth the only option. Suddenly, I was being outfitted in scrubs and ushered into an operating room.

After what seemed like forever, my daughter was born. But since she was early, she was quickly taken to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). She then spent the following days there as she was monitored and nursed to full health.

My heart was stolen when I first caught a glimpse of her in that operating room. The sheer power of the moment when you first lay eyes on your child is something that will forever be engrained in your mind. Pure joy.

I remember visiting her in the NICU and wondering what she would think of me. Wondering what it would be like to be a dad. Wondering if she would be healthy, if she would be happy, if she would laugh a lot or if she would cry. My mind raced as the magnitude of the moment sank in.

I was a father.

Every single day for the last 18 years has been full of love and happiness as a result of my wonderful daughter. When she was born, she awoke a tender soul inside of me. My life’s journey had taken a turn and my sole focus was on making her life the best it could be. My mission was to show her that I would always be there for her and to show her that I would love her unconditionally.

Little did I know that she would have me completely wrapped around her finger from the beginning. She knows it and so do I, but I don’t care.

Over the last 18 years I have lived the life of a hundred happy men. Having the opportunity to be around a girl like her has made me feel like I never knew existed.

Her smile melts me. Her laugh warms me. Her hugs make me feel better.

I’ve watched as she’s gone from a careless toddler skipping around the house to a young lady hurdling down the track. She’s fallen asleep on my chest as a baby and on my shoulder as a teen.

She has opened my eyes to new and exciting things I never cared to look at before.

I spent years watching her grow into an amazing dancer. Her grace and beauty on stage would cause me to be completely immersed in her performances. I would find myself locked onto her throughout the performance, captivated by her passion escaping through her movement. I would literally feel my throat tighten as I watched my baby girl on stage throwing herself into her art.

Years later I watched as she explored her interest in soccer. She was a natural. Maybe a little awkward with the ball at first, but her speed and athleticism more than made up for it. The best part of it though was watching her with her teammates and coach. She was always smiling. Always laughing. Her spirit and soul were always in the right place. She brought joy and happiness to those around her and I watched on with love.

Over the last several years she has found a new passion, track and field. I find myself again completely engrossed with every aspect of her journey. She has dedicated her time and effort to becoming the best she can be. She has grown into a tremendous athlete and someone that inspires not only her teammates, but also me. I love spending all day at the track just for a chance to get a glimpse of her running. I love being there every time she sets a new Personal Record (PR). I love sharing with her the joy of victory, while also being there to hug her when she fails.

I will fight to be at every game, every performance, and every meet, just for the opportunity to be around her and to experience the moments that shape her life.

Now I find myself 6 months away from her leaving the house. This literally breaks me up. As I’m writing this, I’m fighting back tears and finding myself pulling my hands away from the keyboard.

As a father, you get accustomed to hearing “Daddy” every day of your life. You get used to saying good-night to your little girl. You get used to asking them how their day was when they get home from school. You get used to sitting beside them on the couch watching a movie together. You simply get used to them being there.

I’m 6 months away from that ending.

I’ll save the “goodbye” post for a later time, but it is something that crosses my mind every single day now.

For now though, I want to take this time to wish her a Happy Birthday. To let her know that she is my everything. To tell her that she has made me the man I am today. To explain to her that I do EVERYTHING for her, her sister, and her mother.

We are a tight family. We are a strong family. And she is a big reason why.

I love you Kristen and I’m so glad I was blessed to have you as my daughter. You will always be my baby girl.