A bleary eyed daddy writes to his baby on her 25th birthday

Before the rest of the world wanted you and loved you and made demands on you,
There was just me and you (and a few others) who got every precious portion of your time.

Before your dreams took you 5-hours-by-plane and 3-timezones away,
There was just you and me and no distance between us.

You were sparkly and beautiful and an unceasing delight. My own personal sun beam.
I could never get enough of your face or your wildly distinct personality.

Selfless from the day you were born.
Bold and stubborn and curious and always pulling away to climb something.
Deeply caring about what others needed.
Born to be a big sister.

Before the rest of the world caught a glimpse of who you were,
I knew who you were.

I knew your dreams would take you far. I knew you'd follow them.
I knew you'd jump from a plane someday.
And that you'd conquer whatever the world threw at you.
And that you'd cry when things didn't go your way, and then they would.
And that you'd have friends - the best kind of friends - who need you in their life.
And that you'd always make people laugh and I'd always make you laugh.
And that you'd always be sparkly and beautiful.

When you first left for school, I missed you like crazy.
I had forgotten what it was to miss someone, and you reminded me.
And you were only two-hours away by car. A ride I'd make whenever you said you needed me.
And then you went further, too far away for me to come running when you need me.
But just ask and I will.

I'm not used to you being so far, and I still hope you'll live close again someday.
But I get it, you've got things to do for now. And I'm so proud that you're doing them.

Today, you're 25 and I'm not there to hug you and admire you and congratulate you in person.
But I am there, with you - like I always have been and always will be.
Proud and sad and happy and missing you.

From your dad and biggest fan, who loves you very, very, very much - happy birthday.