My little girl


I used to hold her in one hand. She used to sleep with me on the couch every Sunday. She used to hate to go to sleep by herself. She had cool names for stuff, like "caukey" instead of coffee. Then one day I turned around and she was dancing on a stage before hundreds of people. She had an ipod in her ear and as I saw her walk down the hall in the dim early evening light I confused her for her mother. Wow! I suppose one day I'll be looking back with fondness the year that Tori turned 11. I suppose as I watch her walk down a church aisle to some horrible young man (just kidding) that I'll wish she was 11 again. Its hard being a daddy and watching them grow. When our kids are 2 we can't wait for them to be older, more self sufficient. Then when they aren't and we run into some toddler at Wal-Mart we say, "I remember when my kids were that age!" Part of us remembers all the sleepless nights, but there is a deeper part that remembers all the funny, cute stuff that you cannot recapture with cameras or video. Its the little moments that don't mean a thing to anyone else in the whole world that make the deepest impact on me. Sitting on a back porch playing guitar while the 3 year old dances to an out of tune song. Watching her examine flowers in the yard that are nothing more than weeds. These things are precious and rare and few and they fly away so fast. Remember them today, write them down. Tell stories. Because everyday they grow and they keep on growing. Time is a precious commodity and it is a constant in life. Even today she became Captain of her cheerleading team....enough already!

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