18 years ago I found myself anxiously wondering what was about to happen.
After weeks of my wife being in the hospital on bed rest we were about to welcome our new baby girl to the world. She had been wanting to make her grand entrance for weeks but the doctors did everything they could to make sure she was as mature as possible given the fact that she was arriving so early.
I was worried she wouldn’t be ok.
There was no stopping her now though. She was determined.
I looked down at my incredibly strong wife with immeasurable pride and respect. The sacrifices she made to carry our daughter as long as she could were awe-inspiring. As typical parents do, you wait to hear your baby cry before you allow any sort of relief to fall over you. She ultimately let out a cry and we knew.
She was going to be ok.
Fast forward to today and I can’t help but let my mind wander and think about all of the amazing times I’ve had with my youngest daughter over the years. My little sidekick.
Our early morning discussions as I drove her to daycare with the daily update on the bridge they were building along the way. Our school thanksgiving lunches. Our late night homework sessions where each of us took turns falling asleep on each other’s shoulder. Our devilish games turning on each other’s car seat warmers as we slyly grinned out the window waiting for the other to wonder why their butt was getting so hot. Our trips to Wegmans where we worked late into the night on homework while laughing about some of the crazy things you see there late at night. Our song recordings we made to capture her silliness and creative lyrics. Our weekend getaway ski trips where it was just the two of us, discussing life over incredibly good pizza with a late night visit to the fireplace.
She has made me grow as a person in so many ways – from the simple ways such as falling in love with the game of soccer and respecting the skill of the claw game, to deeper and more lasting ways such as making me a better father, a better man, and a better human.
Her kind heart and spirit goes beyond words. She always does the right thing and sacrifices in order to make others happy. Her genuine love is infectious and she is the friend everyone deserves.
Over these last 18 years I’ve looked on with pride as she’s grown into an incredible young woman.
She used to be a little bruiser marauding through the dust in a cluster of kids on the soccer field but now she’s an athletic powerhouse sprinting down the wing making defenders shudder. She used to be a little ballerina counting steps and looking up to others but now she’s a ferocious dancer living her best life and choreographing others. There is nothing this girl can’t do if she simply puts her mind to it.
She’s going to be ok.
I’ve especially enjoyed watching her embrace her artistic side while she lets her creativity loose. Being a creative doesn’t always follow the “typical” path. School can be a struggle when the topics aren’t of interest. The structure of it all can be overwhelming for a spirt that wants to fly. At times it can feel paralyzing and confusing.
I always want her to know that life is what you make it. While you may have to conform to certain standards and expectations now, those are just temporary hurdles on the path to the life you really want. I know it’s all cliche but it really is true.
It’s going to be ok.
One of the great regrets of my life is that I feel as if I didn’t live mine to the fullest. I set myself out on a path that was engrained in me early on – one that sort of suppressed my own creativity. My mind was set that being a businessman carrying my briefcase to work was the “right” way to do it. I’ve spent my entire career doing just that. While my work has been fulfilling and enjoyable, there are still days I question the merits of sitting in an office crammed full of drab beige cubes.
I want my daughter to know it’s ok to do something different. It’s ok to follow your heart and do what you want to do. It’s ok to not conform. I want her life to be everything she wants to make it, not what everyone says it should be.
I want her to be ok.
I, of course, also have to deal with this moment. It’s my final 18th birthday. She’s my last child. All year I’ve been trying to take an extra minute to soak up these “last” times. The last high school football game together with our last (strangely amazing) cheeseburgers. The last Homecoming. The last Halloween party at the house. The last theatre performance, the last soccer game, and the last Prom. The last school lunch (ok, that one I might be happy about).
These 18 years have been an amazing ride with my little sidekick. From the simple runs to the store to the more profound and enlightening times like sitting in an empty parking lot at night with the moonroof open, eyes closed letting snow flakes gently sprinkle down on our faces, not saying a word but simply enjoying a fleeting break from it all.
Even though I may sound somber about it, I’m not. I’m incredibly thankful that she has given me all of this. I’m thankful she has provided me a life that I could have never imagined. Having her in my life fills my heart beyond bounds. No matter how hard my day is, when I come home and see her face and get a hug from her, it makes everything better.
After all this time, I’ve come to realize, she makes me ok.
I love you Kayla.
That was just BEAUTIFUL, Jeff! ❤️