Gift

There is an unseen galaxy that dwarfs three dimensional understanding. It is so much more than our entire world and yet we carry it within us on all of our trips to Whole Foods, swimming lessons, and her favorite burger joint. It is with us on all of the bike rides, and especially while we strap on her helmet. During all of these moments we struggle to keep it mostly below the surface. It is inconceivable how we house it in such a small place and yet we do. It must be similar to Dr. Who’s Tardis in that it is infinitely larger on the inside than it is on the outside.

This galaxy is placed within us Fathers the moment that we first meet our Daughter. It is too large to completely show to anyone… especially her, but little glimpses occasionally spill out as we struggle to contain it. How can something so massive cause us to both levitate and keep our feet grounded? If you are a Father of a Daughter then you not only read these words, but also realize how woefully inadequate they are to describe what she placed inside of you. The massive emotional gyroscopic forces that spin and orbit within us. It is a new infinity forever being explored and her fingerprints and/or finger paints are on every inch of it.

This galaxy is an unspeakable blessing and it arrives with daunting responsibilities. Our numerous required tasks perpetually evolve, but we are basically teachers and lifeguards. Our security assignment is a difficult one to eventually retire from. Actually, we just pretend to retire as we slowly morph into grey and bald headed minute men. Our teaching task is also vital and is best performed like all the good teachers… a bit of fun while you teach in order to maintain her attention.

There is one paramount moment that we should slightly peel the surface back and allow her to see just a glimpse of the galaxy orbiting inside of us. That moment occurs every day when we first see her. One of the ways that she gauges her value is our response to her arrival. Just for that moment… let her see the galaxy, then quickly cover it with a joke before it cracks your chest in half. It is the brief look on your face that says I love you truer than any words. It is putting a client on hold as she walks in the door while you make direct joy filled eye contact (fueled from the galaxy) and hug her almost hard enough to hurt while lifting her feet off the floor. She will be easy to lift not because you are strong, but because the galaxy makes her weightless. This proves to her that she has overwhelming value. She will take this with her and it will help tip the scale to making better choices. After all, it is easy to risk something of little value.

I often ask her “Who’s in charge of your safety?”  as she heads out the door without me. She always responds with a crooked smile and a slight drop of her shoulders… “I am.” This is a well timed reminder to not simply go along with whatever mob directed activity might otherwise take the lead.

Sadly, I know of Fathers who somehow denied the existence of the galaxy and I imagine that became the greatest regret of their lives. Proper care for the galaxy will not only enrich our lives, but will keep us within neighboring orbits for all of her life… even after she buries me. Yes, the galaxy will be her’s alone when I die. All of those shoulder rides, chauffeured miles, Dad jokes, Sci-fi movie tickets, and so much more will be the legacy that she will continue to hold. Memories that will lift her to tears and lessons that will continue to help her. She may think of it as what remains of me after I’m gone, but it will actually be the gift that she gave me all of those years ago. The gift that made me her Father and a better man. It will simply be the return, after so many years… of her galaxy. The gift that overwhelmed me as she first put her tiny hand in mine and served as my tour guide while I foolishly thought that I was serving as hers. The galaxy that all of you lucky Dads understand beyond words because it is inside of you, too.