Kalt
let the rain wash away
She looks as if she’s frozen in place, and I can’t blame her. I’ve thought about this moment so many times in so many different ways, but now that it’s here? There’s nothing in the world that could have prepared me for what it feels like to be face-to-face again with my daughter.
“Dad?” She says, almost as if she’s unsure. Once again…how can I blame her?
I know what they must have thought. I know what it had to have taken to move on with their lives because I know what it took for me to keep going, even with refusing to believe them gone. So to show up on their doorstep like this…
My smile grows slightly, and I continue my pace toward her. My leg aches against the long trek over the long stretches of sand, but I practically can’t even feel it anymore, seeing her standing in stunned silence finally within arm’s reach.
Actually within arm’s reach…
I stop in front of her, carefully reaching out and brushing her hair behind her ear, my thumb lingering just below her cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” I just barely manage. I don't know how I’ll ever get over the years I missed—both the three years of absence and the others that must have been such a rapid growth experience—but it doesn’t matter…not when she’s in front of me.
I want to hug her, to crush her in those tight, trapping hugs that used to make her cackle in her escape attempts, but she’s…she’s not eleven anymore…and as much as it pains me, I know I can’t just scoop her up like I used to.
“Dad?” She says, almost as if she’s unsure. Once again…how can I blame her?
I know what they must have thought. I know what it had to have taken to move on with their lives because I know what it took for me to keep going, even with refusing to believe them gone. So to show up on their doorstep like this…
My smile grows slightly, and I continue my pace toward her. My leg aches against the long trek over the long stretches of sand, but I practically can’t even feel it anymore, seeing her standing in stunned silence finally within arm’s reach.
Actually within arm’s reach…
I stop in front of her, carefully reaching out and brushing her hair behind her ear, my thumb lingering just below her cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful,” I just barely manage. I don't know how I’ll ever get over the years I missed—both the three years of absence and the others that must have been such a rapid growth experience—but it doesn’t matter…not when she’s in front of me.
I want to hug her, to crush her in those tight, trapping hugs that used to make her cackle in her escape attempts, but she’s…she’s not eleven anymore…and as much as it pains me, I know I can’t just scoop her up like I used to.
all the pain of yesterday
