daddy's girl

a spoken word poem

I don’t remember the first time I saw you, but you, you remember when you saw me.  Was it really seventeen years ago when you stood there, half way around the world in a foreign land, with your wife by your side, clutching her hand, wondering, what you had stepped into? For in two minutes, or maybe three, your whole life would change and not because of a mid life crisis.  Or perhaps it was a crisis because the word “father” would cease to be just a word found in the dictionary and become your new name and you had no clue what to expect from this nine month old baby who you’d only seen in a tiny photograph with rosy round cheeks and big brown eyes framed with small wisps of black hair just like a China doll come alive.

But as this little girl was placed in your arms, your eyes got red and a tear escaped down your cheek and you knew that it didn’t matter if she was six or sixteen or six times three, she would always be your princess and you would be her superman. And no matter how bleak the storm of life raged, you would be there to straighten her invisible crown and look her in the eye and say, “Don’t let life get you down, no matter what happens, everything will be okay.” 

And so through the rain and the pain and the hurt and those days when she just can’t find the right shirt to impress the boy down the street and she could just hurl at the thought of wearing THAT again, daddy will always be there for his girl. And together they will pick up their feet and dance until the sun chases away the tears and the smiles start to stick.

And don’t you worry, even when the door slams shut after words like bullets ricocheted off the walls and your princess has seemed to deteriorate into the wicked witch of the East....remember, you’re still her superman and she’s just waiting for you to fly up because sometimes it’s just too painful for Rapunzel-Turned-Beast to let her hair down again one more time for you to make the climb.

But deep inside, she’s still the little girl who, once upon a forever ago, scrawled on a note, “Dad, I love you more than a horse.”  And she’s still the little girl who thinks it's funny to sit on her daddy’s lap after dinner and affectionately call him “ricehead” and “one dumb bunny” and roll her eyes at “why did the three little pigs leave home?”

But dad, you’re not a bore and I will never leave home just because I want to escape but because you taught me how to fly.  And I know that when I leave it won’t really be a goodbye, but another beginning. A new chapter of superman and super....princess. And I will place my hand in your hand that will always be bigger than mine, and together we know that “No matter what happens, everything will be.....terrific.” 

Happy Birthday, Dad! :D