Just wanted to share a little story with you about a VERY special moment with my daughter yesterday. I need to confess, the full impact of the moment did not occur to me until the next day when I had some time to reflect on the events and note the depth and tenderness of the moment.
My daughter is now 3-1/2 and is VERY active. She has three older brothers who involve her in any and all of their activities.
So this weekend she was out in the backyard. Our home abuts a wild greenbelt in the back which leads to a running stream, and we see tons of wildlife regularly, including fox, coyotes, and the rabbits they haven't consumed... yet.
Anyway, my daughter and two of her brothers were in the back and playing near the wood rail fence which separates civilization (our yard) from the wild (its really not so bad
). While playing on the wood fence, Katya manages to brush up against some of the rough-hewn rails and it resulted in some medium-severity splinters.
When I get home from work on Monday, the splinters are significant enough that Dad gets drafted into splinter duty - pull out the needle and tweezers - sterilize the needle - and go to work on the two or three splinters big enough to be visible. Of course there is the obligatory screaming and tears, with eventual calm setting in.
So now all is well - or so we thought - UNTIL.... 24 hours later, the smaller splinters on the underside (tender side) of her forearm are now making their presence known with maybe 20 or 30 small red marks - a few more significant than others.
Dad comes home again (Mom is NOT 'up' for splinter duty), only this time we recognize the magnitude of the 'surgery' and decide it requires a MAJOR distraction. Up comes "Little Mermaid" on the video while at the same time, out comes the needle and tweezers once again (surreptitiously, of course). With Mom pointing out Flounder's appearance and Arial, Dad is plucking out the splinters as quickly and efficiently as possible - with again some of the obligatory screaming and squirming.
Finally, with most of the major surgery completed, we decide to cleanse the area with soap, warm water, and a washcloth. Dad once again goes to work with a thorough scrubbing of the area - and I suspect it probably did hurt like hell.
Once finished - and with tears still welling up in her little eyes - my daughter looks up at me - lays her head in the very same hands which had been scrubbing her wounds so vigorously just moments earlier - and tells me, miraculously, "Daddy, I love you SO much!"
I have no idea what possessed her to say that at that particular time - and as I think about it now, I feel so incredibly touched and privileged to have such a daughter. She is, of course, the product of a loving, attentive, and wonderful Mom - and her loving attitude is a direct result of the model she has enjoyed since the day she was born.
I am truly blessed.
When I read some of the posts which question what "this" is all about - I will forever remember this moment of tenderness and clarity.
- Dan
