On earth, when you fling something in the air it falls back down (oh freshman mechanics…) I was happy and cold so I was skipping, dancing, leaping, pirouetting forward and back and around my family, expressing how wonderful life is and this family about which I pranced so joyously.
“Knock it off” he exclaimed. Deflated, I halted in place, coldly trailing behind. He was correct, I was a nuisance. But I did not want him to be correct. I was so happy, so free; then a sail without wind. I flashed to anger, sulking in disappointment; but these are such flimsy surface ripples. I had danced for approval, for appreciation, and was reprimanded; indeed I sulked. I was not used to being batted down by him.
I resented him, for too long, but luckily not forever (or even a day.) The mature love he has fostered goes beyond fealty, flowering to a fully informed unconditional. Dad taught me how to catch myself and lift myself back up. What better life lesson?
I love you daddy. I’ll always be your little girl.
And I think that’s what I’m finally becoming, that thing you most want me to be, the thing that I see you see: the best “me”.