We tried everything we could think of to calm her. We took her for a drive, read to her, sang to her, played the guitar for her, banged our heads against the wall for her, pleaded with her, and finally she went to sleep. But you know what? As I sit here at work, bleary eyed despite having drunk enough coffee to fill a medium sized wading pool, all I want is to go home, sit on the couch next to Heather, and hold my daughter. I’ve laughed with her. I’ve cried with her. I’ve held her on my chest while she slept and felt more content than I can ever remember feeling. But this is the first time I’ve truly felt like a father… to know what it’s like to love someone so strongly even when they push you to exhaustion.
To myself in 13 years, try to remember this feeling when she’s a teenager.