Letters from Dad: #10

“Hi Daddy!”

These are the words that greet me when I walk through the door at the end of the day. Then this little doll follows me around the room saying “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy” with a smile in her voice, and every chance she gets she latches on to my leg and hugs them tightly.

My sweet little Abby girl.

She gets mad at me if I stop in the kitchen to talk to Mommy. She wants me to pick her up so that she can wrap her arms around my neck and tell me all about her day. I still can’t understand everything she says, but every day, I understand a little more. Sometimes, I think she is just too excited and talking too fast.

She won’t always be my little girl. One day she will get truly mad at Daddy and not just for talking to Mommy instead of her. When she becomes a teenager and hates her mother and me, I hope I can remember the sweet girl who yells for me in the morning when I am getting ready for work. Before she could crawl, I would come home from work and pick her up as she gibbered at me. I felt like she was telling me about her day so then I would make up songs to sing to her. She was the sickest in the NICU and sometimes the nurses would say we needed to avoid her so that she could rest. I would get so angry at the nurses for trying to keep me from my daughter. I know they were only trying to protect her, but when she was in that little isolette there was only so much I could do. I wanted her to feel my presence and know that her Daddy loved her.

No matter what happens in life, I hope that my children will always know I love them.

“Hi Daddy!”

These are the words that greet me when I walk through the door at the end of the day. Then this little doll follows me around the room saying “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy” with a smile in her voice, and every chance she gets she latches on to my leg and hugs them tightly.

My sweet little Abby girl.

She gets mad at me if I stop in the kitchen to talk to Mommy. She wants me to pick her up so that she can wrap her arms around my neck and tell me all about her day. I still can’t understand everything she says, but every day, I understand a little more. Sometimes, I think she is just too excited and talking too fast.

She won’t always be my little girl. One day she will get truly mad at Daddy and not just for talking to Mommy instead of her. When she becomes a teenager and hates her mother and me, I hope I can remember the sweet girl who yells for me in the morning when I am getting ready for work. Before she could crawl, I would come home from work and pick her up as she gibbered at me. I felt like she was telling me about her day so then I would make up songs to sing to her. She was the sickest in the NICU and sometimes the nurses would say we needed to avoid her so that she could rest. I would get so angry at the nurses for trying to keep me from my daughter. I know they were only trying to protect her, but when she was in that little isolette there was only so much I could do. I wanted her to feel my presence and know that her Daddy loved her.

No matter what happens in life, I hope that my children will always know I love them.