Yesterday I was helping the girls ride around the park. Layla on her Barbie bike (finally got around to fixing the tires), and Paisley sporting the new princess scooter she got for Christmas. They love love love their "bikes". Reminded me of how much I rode them when I was a kid.
Most of the time, as they rode around the giant circle, they were as far apart from each other as possible. Round and round, and they each kept asking for help. So back and forth across the circle I went, earning father points with each trek. They were looking to me for direction, stability, and safety. I was being a good father. And I could feel it. With each pedal or push, they were each getting the hang of it. We were having a good time.
In the middle of this a sadness hit me. Hit me hard, out of nowhere. I thought about the day I would die. Maybe it would come soon, maybe not for a long time. Either way, someday they would lose the ability to directly receive advice and love from their father. And it has become obvious to me lately how important a father is for a girl, especially when she is little. But what caused the sorrow, however, was not my death. It was this notion I couldn't shake: that the closer we become, the harder that this loss will be for them. I literally felt that the better father I would be in their lifetime, the harder it will someday be for them to lose me.
Of course as I write this, I worry that it sounds incredibly conceded. As if my relationship to them is absolutely everything important in their lives. Which of course it is not. But these were the feelings as they were coming.
I think two things are going on: one, as a father, I would like to shield and protect them from any major emotional distresses (which of course is impossible to do). And two, I have an issue with the finality of death.
I want to give them a good family life and a good relationship with their father and mother. Maybe I underestimate the importance of these things regardless of their eventual end. I still can't shake the feeling.
The good news is that my instinct is stronger than this crazy head of mine, and I would not change anything about our bike ride in the park. And I look forward to many, many more.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Daughters
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5 comments:
that's heavy.
Yeah - heavy indeed, but quality contemplation nonetheless. Love you big time.
oh jacob...I love this post. love it. I have had very similar thoughts recently too...I thought it was because I'm well...almost 43. I absolutely have issues with the idea of my own death...so much more now than I ever remember. I think about what that will mean for my girls...and I think about how near the scenario is for both Jim and I as our parents are all somewhere around 70-80. I hate the idea of experiencing that grief personally too.
...deep thoughts
Unfortunately, the more you have, the more you have to lose... and your kids have a really amazing daddy. Fortunately, even if the worst did happen, they will never lose the unconditional love, time, and guidance you have already given them. It's become part of who they are, and it can never be undone.
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