In the cold recesses of my conscience, I remember the few times that I was cruel to my father. It must have been confusing to him. He was many things to me (sometimes harsh), but never cruel. I know that I was reaching for something then, desperate to belong, striving to feel big in some way. Somehow we moved on from those times and I knew he loved me, even after the worst of them. It was actually harder for me to forgive myself.
I think I get it now; how he hung in there with me. He had laid the groundwork long before my adolescence. He had let me into his heart the day he first laid eyes on me. I'm sure of it! I did not always let him in, but I know now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he treasured me.
My little girl sparkles as I watch her walk and talk and laugh and roll around on the floor. There are days when I get tired, when I wonder if I'll be able to keep up with her until she falls out, but I never wonder if I will love her no matter what. I am confident that she will have a good life; that she will be a strong confident person. But even if I'm wrong, I know that I will follow her to the end of the earth to show her how much I love her. I had a good role model. Thanks dad!
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