I started to piece the puzzle together and that’s when I learned that, as a dad, I was given pretty much free reign to be as dorky as I wanted.
So many people like to preach about the importance of fathers in a family unit but then look down on them when they arrive pushing a stroller.
Enlightened as I was, there was nowhere further to go. I had been a horrible person, needed to repent, and that was the end of the story.
Surely he’d talk by three. When three came and went, it was surely four. It was a never ending cycle of “everything will be different next year.”
I’m not writing this to simply tell the story of seeing the world through Olivia’s eyes, but also about accidentally making her see the world through mine.
A family is made up of many people. While no member should be raised above others to define you all, no member should hidden in the shadows either.
Chris’s death devastated me. Even now as I write this 13 years later, I have a hard time expressing my feelings about it.
You keep waiting for an adultier adult to run in and say, “Ladies and gentlemen, this person is a liar!”
What followed was a ten minute game of angry Twister that left us with an awful haircut and an even more awful memory.
It seems like from the moment I became the father of a girl, there has been a concerted effort by the world to make me realize that she would one day grow up and move on.