Tonight as I tucked Kalista in bed, it occurred to me how much she has developed. She’s like a little person now.
“Daddy, lay down,” she told me, brushing away my arm holding head up my head as I lay next to her.
I had some things to do. Check on my bills, check Web sites to see what the news was around the area, research for some upcoming stories. I have been sleeping in her bed at her request, but only when it’s time for me to sleep, some two hours or so after I put her down.
Tonight I lay next to her and rubbed her hair until – and after – she fell asleep.
“You know, I’m going to miss this someday,” I said aloud. “Someday, you’re not going to want me anywhere near you. Then someday after that, you’re going to wish you could spend one more day with me.”
I gave her a kiss and walked out of her room, shutting the door softly behind.
A couple photos of her and I from the past year hangs on the wall just outside her room. Funny – but not comical whatsoever – how much older she’s gotten.
It was at that moment I realized what an unfortunate component of reality the passage of moments is. I never thought before about what a dick time is until I started to see the effects it had on Kalista. It’s alarming to think we start dying the moment we are born.
Don’t you wish things would stand still for a time? I’m going to miss this – all these struggles of the early years … the juggling of schedules, the oftentimes impossible race to get her fed, bathed and in bed so I can clean the house, get some writing done … it will all be over before I realize it.
Before I had a chance to recognize how wonderful it was.