Tonight’s (or rather this morning’s) post has little to do with the Loop, except that it provides the distance I probably need to deal with recent events.
Our middle child (and younger of two daughters), Carla, moved from our home in Elk Grove yesterday to San Diego, a distance of some five hundred miles. It was no surprise; she had been planning it for months. Somehow I had managed not to think about it much. I suppose I hoped it would just go away. About an hour ago (4:30 AM), one of those Lake Michigan thunderstorms passed over Once Around and woke me. Suddenly I could think of little else. I nicknamed her my “Little Bird” when she was about two years old. How could this little bird be ready to leave the nest?
Here she is with her little brother...about three years ago, I think.
This is her maybe a year later scoring a goal!
It’s not that I in any way think her move is a bad thing. She is old enough to make her own decisions, and she is in love with a young man who is stationed there for a couple more years while he completes his service in the navy. I trust her judgment in both the person she is involved with, and the timing of her move, to be with him. So, why do I feel so empty tonight?
I suppose many fathers of daughters understand. To your little girls, a father is a knight in shining armor, her prince for the first twenty or so years of her life. They measure their boyfriends by their gold standard…you! And, you do your best to live up to that and not to disappoint them. But, (and this is a good thing), there comes the day when you see in their eyes that you have been replaced. Up on that big white horse you used to ride is some kid you just met. He’s young, handsome, and obviously smitten by your little girl. So, you do what comes naturally…check him out with the FBI’s Criminal Division and watch “America’s Most Wanted” religiously because you know this guy will turn up there sooner or later. But, he doesn’t.
In fact, since your little girl has great taste in men, and even better judgment, you find you actually begin to like the guy. So next you try and warn him off. “You know...” you say, “…you have a princess on your hands here, right? I’ve spoiled her rotten all her life and now she’s going to expect the same from you. Are you up to it”? Part of you is secretly hoping he’ll bolt and run…but, of course, he doesn’t.
Prince Charming not only has looks and southern charm, he's brave. Here he is on the USS Ronald Reagan. He jumps out of (perfectly good) helicopters as a rescue swimmer.
Evan will have his hands full with my daughter. Carla has her mother’s beauty, great smile and wonderful sense of humor. She is also smart, intensely competitive, knows what she wants and works hard to achieve it (not sure where that comes from). She can also be pretty emotional. I would like to deny where she comes by that, but, to paraphrase Steve Martin in The Father of the Bride, she comes from a long line of overly emotional people…ME! One of the things Carrie noticed about the two of them together the first time we met him was Evan’s ability to calm her down with a quiet word or even a look.
And, here is my Little Bird just this summer.
As I sit here thousands of miles away listening to the rain fall in the gloomy dawn, all I can do to quell the sadness I feel is to hope and pray Carla and Evan know for themselves the same happiness together that Carrie and I share. I believe in my heart they will.
So, Little Bird…I am sorry I couldn’t be there yesterday to help you move. But, I don’t think I could stand to watch you leave, anyway.
Dad
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