Full Circle Life
Bug-bit legs and long brown hair. The fair skinned girl with freckles on her nose. So little. Small for her age. Five years into a wide open life. Little brothers play around her. She looks up when one says, “Dad’s home.” The familiar running of little feet, the door opens, and there stands the man. The dad. Everyone clamors for attention. Everyone has a story to tell, and there’s just one dad to go around. His only little girl, I wait. He looks at me, and I smile. He smiles back, and winks at me.
Nearly twenty years have passed, and the little girl sits. Bug-bit legs, long brown hair, fair skin, and freckles on her nose. So little. Five years into a wide open life. Little brothers play around her. She looks up when I say, “Daddy’s home.” The familiar running of little feet, the door opens, and there stands the man. The dad. Everyone clamors for attention. Everyone has a story to tell, and there’s just one dad to go around. His only little girl, she waits. He looks at me, and I smile. I smile as he tosses the boys in the air, holds them to the ceiling in one hand, and roughly rubs their heads with gentle hands. He puts them down, and he smacks them away. They laugh. They smile. They reach their arms up for more. She’s still waiting. It’s her turn now. My little girl. He holds her up, too, she touches the ceiling. Instead of the toss and the benign smack, she gets a full embrace. His smile grows as he holds her close, and wraps her up in his arms. She giggles and smiles, and says, “Daddy, guess what?” He sits down in his chair…Daddy’s chair. The kids pile on, and I smile to myself.
A full circle life, and here I am. I sigh. I’m happy. This is life.
Well done.