Tonight I feel like “super dad”. Daughter isn’t feeling that well so she was a little more than docile when I got in from work. She was laying on the love-seat which is an odd thing as she is normally bouncing off walls when I get in. Tonight though she was laying under a blanket. Her mom and grandmother where in the kitchen and I had cracked out the Ukulele; something I’ve recently decided to try and learn.
I started my practice . . . my daughter sits up and looks at me through half-open eyelids and asks if I can play some sleepy time music. Well I only know one song at the moment so I can’t say that I know any sleepy time music. But my brother had taught me a plucking pattern that if played slow enough, which I have to at this point as I’m just learning, is quite soothing. So I started plucking it out. I wasn’t perfect but it set the right tune. My right hand started to lose feeling and the finger-tips of my left hand were feeling like they were about to bleed. But I kept playing . . . grandma came into the room and I motioned for her to sit down and be quiet. I whispered that Daughter wanted sleepy time music.
The story ends with my daughters eyes taking long blinks. I put down the Ukulele and slipped my arms under her and carried her to bed. This typically is a mommy – daughter ritual but tonight it was all mine. I tucked her in, wound her clock, and turned out the light. Before leaving though I kneeled at the foot of her bed and offered thanks for this great day and great daughter that’s on loan to me. When I came downstairs I felt as if I were going to burst. I had put my little girl to sleep playing an instrument. No computers, no television . . . just me and my daughter . . . me and my little girl.
Dad, I love this and you! I’m practically about to burst into tears of happiness. It’s sad that i don’t remember this.
This is why it is important to write our stories down, so that we can remember these moments.