A Daughter Teaches Her Father June 16
Last week was very busy at our house. I celebrated the twin pleasures of my daughter’s high school graduation and my 18th Father’s Day. I’m not usually a reflective sort, but when my daughter and I reach these milestones, I always remember the day we started our journey together.
I sat in the hallway of Jewish Hospital in Cincinnati, OH, pulling on scrubs and preparing to watch my daughter come into the world. She would be a Cesarean baby. I entered the room and stood beside my wife, holding her hand and waiting for our lives to change completely. The doctors cut, my wife’s glasses fogged up from her tears, and I stood watching the whole thing unfold. At one point, the doctor asked how I was doing - apparently fearing I might faint like many fathers do - and I said, “I’m fine Doc, you’re not cutting me.”
With the Doctor into her abdomen up to his elbows, Marcia failed to see the humor.
Claire was a large baby - 10 lbs. 6 oz. - and born with a small hip defect that was painlessly corrected within a few months. Because of the surgery, Marcia was’t able to do much in the days that followed. I held, fed, and changed Claire for the first time and with those chores done, I blinked my eyes a few times and found myself sitting in the bleachers of a high school in California. The sun was bright and warm and the graduates sat on the field in their green robes and mortarboards. I could easily find Claire, distinguished by her lithe, nearly 6 ft. frame, her flame-red hair, and the gold rope and medals she wore to signify graduating with honors and competing as a shot-putter and discus thrower.
We’ve had many chances to celebrate over the years and thankfully, few things to fret. She’s truly a marvel, but not in the ways you might think.
The truth is that Claire has taught me so much more than I’ve ever taught her. I did the things fathers are expected to do - teaching her to read and ride her bike. I dove into the pool for her first swimming lessons or took her trick or treating during a blinding snowstorm. Holding her as she sobbed at the breakup with her first boyfriend and attending more ceremonies, school plays, and track meets than I can count were just the perks of being a Dad. She handled the heavy lifting. She learned and grew and turned into an extraordinarily balanced and well-mannered young woman. She’s one smart kid.
I know this because I’ve learned so much from her. As a life-long sufferer of depression, I learned there really is happiness in life. She taught me to be more supportive and less self-centered. At her knee, I learned patience and understanding. And, watching her grow from each new experience, I learned how I had grown and learned too. She has changed my life in so many ways I feel a deep indebtedness that I don’t think I can ever repay.
She’ll be leaving to attend college this fall. Rather than being sad about beginning a life separate from hers, I find I’m looking forward to it. Sure, I’ll miss her, but one of the things she’s taught me is that everyone needs space. Everyone needs to learn how to live their own life and now her life is becoming her own. As she moves on to that life, Marcia and I will be using the things she’s taught us to move along and redefine the lives we live. There’ll be more than enough challenges, but I’m confident we’ll weather them well by using the things Claire has taught us. Her goodness and strength will make that possible.
So there’s only one thing left to say, “Thanks. I love the woman you’ve become and the man you’ve helped create”.
The Poobah is a featured contributor at Bring It On!
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