This baby was her Daddy's girl before she was even born, and I remember the words he spoke in the sonographer's room, as we watched the squirming baby on the screen. When we were told this baby was a daughter, my husband - all man... strong, rational, logical, unwavering - said, "I'm ruined."And so it has been.
These two loves of mine have standing Starbucks dates on weekend mornings. They shoe shop at L.L. Bean. She has even gotten him to sing the theme song to Veggie Tales (and he is a self-proclaimed "non-singer," you must know). I laugh as I ask her for a kiss, and she often says, "Only Daddy."
Sitting back, I watch them. I see the tenderness they have with one another. And I see the places this love will be carried in the years to come. These things I know because I am a Daddy's girl myself.
One day, she will have her own family, and if she lives very far from her dad at all, she will have to look out the window for a few minutes as her husband drives them away. So the tears don't spill over her lashes. So she can keep looking at her father until she can no longer see him standing there, waving goodbye.
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