Tuesday

He's Still The Daddy

I wrote this a few years ago. A little over 3 years ago, it seems, as my girl will soon turn 15 (yes, those were my gray hairs "sproing-ing" straight up as I said that):

Our Ashley is adult-sized. She is not adult shaped, and, at barely 11, isn't an adult, but she is adult sized. Over 5' tall and in ladies clothes that do not fit because she isn't shaped like a lady yet, but the girl that she still is. She is still getting used to those long legs and ginormous feet that she inherited from her mother.

Last night, due to events we will never understand other than the earth's gravity, Ashley's feet came completely out from under her while she was walking into the kitchen. She had both hands full, so the entirity of her adult-sized body landed on her tailbone on our tile floor. As Troy and I stood over her trying to help her and determine what happened it quickly became obvious that even if there WERE something you could do for an injured tailbone, we didn't know what it was, and watching her cry and writhe in pain was heartbreaking.

So Troy squatted down and, without even audibly groaning, scooped up her adult-sized body as if she were still 3 or 4 and carried her to a more comfortable spot
-because she's his baby girl
-because she needed him
-because he's the daddy.


It still kind of makes me cry... because our opportunities to take care of our babies are so few these days. But Troy had one more opportunity to take care of his girl, somewhat like this, a few days ago. I wasn't around, I'm not even sure of the circumstances, but I know they left for a 'I need to be looking somewhat nice' occasion and promptly returned home with her having scraped up knees, and mud all over, due to a difficult to see slick spot in a parking lot. It was so very very sad. I appreciated so much that he knew that to an almost-15 year old girl, he could not say, "Just go rinse off in the bathroom." No, this called for wardrobe and make-up and momma, and they came home. We got her cleaned up and back on track, not too much worse for the wear.

Because he's the daddy. And a darn good one, at that. We are so very very blessed.

1 comment:

Roxanne said...

Bless him. He IS a good, good daddy. I have one of those at my house too.

 
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