First off, happy birthday.
Ever since you turned 6, I've been writing birthday letters to you. There's lots of other stuff I've written for and about you over the years and I'm hoping this is the year when you start to read all that, but because it's your birthday I'm going to highlight the last bit of each of my previous birthday letters. Why? You'll see.
But first, let me show you the opening paragraph from my first blog post ever:
First Post Ever - September 4, 2012: "There's a lot going on in my life. I've got 3 daughters - two of whom are now off to University. The third one, being only 3, isn't close. That means that my wife and I are dealing with both "Empty Nest Syndrome" and first day of pre-Kindergarten at the same time. Whereas I thought having the little one around would blunt the trauma of losing the other two, it turns out that the opposite is true: The little one (let's call her "Micaela"), is a constant reminder of the other two as small children, and the other two make me very aware of how fleeting it all is.
Now, here are the last few words of each of your birthday letters:
A Letter to My Youngest Daughter: 6 Things to Remember When You're 6 (and older) - March 5, 2015: "I will miss my 5 year old when she becomes 6 in a few days, but I will love you at 6 too. And 7. And forever. See you then."
A Letter to My Youngest Daughter: On Your Last Day as a Six-Year-Old - March 7, 2016: "So that's why we're happy and sad as you turn 7. We'll keep the sad at bay so you don't feel it, but later on when you read this I hope it will make you feel even more love and loved than you do already. Happy birthday my sweetest little girl. Enjoy 7."
A Letter to My Youngest Daughter: Cherish 8 Year-old You - March 7, 2017: "I love you and I can't wait to see the kid you are a year from now and a decade from now. Don't ever, ever, ever, ever, ever hide the 8-year-old away where you (and I) can't find her."
Dear 9-year-old (a letter from a temporarily absent father) - March 8, 2018: "When it comes to parents and children and spending time together, the most important song ever is Cat's in the Cradle by Harry Chapin. I heard that song when I was young, and I swore that wouldn’t happen to me and my kids. Listen to it and you’ll know what I mean. And yet, here I am – missing a birthday because of work. Do not for one minute believe that it means I think there is anything more important than you. Nothing is more important to me and your mom than you and your sisters. And right now – at 9 – while I still have you full-time, and while you still need me (almost) full-time, you are the most important of all. “When you coming home Dad? I don’t know when, but we’ll be together then, Dad.” That’s what the song says. But this is not Cat's in the Cradle because I do know when I’ll be home – and that’s tomorrow. I promise to give you twice as many hugs and kisses then. In the meantime, I hope you understand. Love you and happy birthday."
And now you are 10 - March 7, 2019: "I will always be there marvelling and looking for superlatives to express my inexpressible love for you. It's been a joy to share your first 10 years and I hope you continue to demand that I share the next 10 as well (not to mention the millennia after that). Happy birthday my Micaela."
Notice anything?
- I'm a sap and I'm at my sappiest on my daughters' birthdays (yes, not just yours). I've treasured every moment of every day that I get to spend with you, and I really, really treasure the birthdays.
- Not a lot has changed over all these years when it comes to how I feel about you and growing up.
- Time is indeed passing, and fast.
And now you're 11. I told you last night that I wasn't going to write you a public letter this year and you asked "Why not?" I told you that I thought you'd be embarrassed by it and you said you wouldn't. I'm very happy to hear that. I hope you're never embarrassed to have parents (and sisters) who are bursting with love for you.
So I'll keep this short. Here are some Daddy/Daughter highlights from this 11th year of your life:
- Meditating. As part of the 30-day challenges I started doing in August, September (I think) was meditation. As it turns out, I meditated every night at bed time, but never alone. This was my favourite 30-day challenge because it led to an every-night routine of spending 5-15 minutes lying with you relaxing from the day. As much as you might look forward to that, I assure you that I look forward to it more.
- The Fishing Game at Dave and Busters. Oh man. That's our game and we're good at it. Nothing better than working together to catch a whale (or is it a shark?)
- The Games, Shows and Museums at Niagara Falls. So much fun to be there with you. The only thing more fun than being there alone with you is being there with a certain grown-up friend who is afraid of the mirror maze.
- Daddy-Daughter Playlists. First there was "53 to the Power of 9", then "54 to the Power of 10", and now we're into "55 to the Power of 11". I love listening to the music together and when you're not around. It always makes me think of you. And Macklemore, of course.
- Human Fall Flat, 3rd Rock from the Sun, and Impractical Jokers. Nothing better than laughing hysterically with you. No matter what my day's been like, those fits of laughter wash everything else away.
We do so much together and spend so much time together and I fear that with teenage years just around the corner, that's going to end. I sure hope not. I hope you're that rare kid whose feet stay planted firmly on the ground, who never gets embarrassed by your embarrassing family, and who continues to care about everyone around her equally (except her family who she cares about the most).
You are absolutely amazing in every way that someone can be amazing, and I wish you the very best year ever.
So much love...Dad
