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.