Thursday, May 30, 2019

I Know Where The Time Goes

It is with proud father fanfare that I proudly announce, the primary source material and purpose of this blog in the first place, my daughter, my princess has graduated from High School!

Oh whoops, did I choose to upload the picture of her with her Valedictorian sash in clear view...
Yes, I did!

She can't possibly understand how proud of her I am. I have been reading back through my posts and have an even clearer perspective on just how far she has come. You should have heard her speech! It was a glorious demonstration of her heart. It wasn't about her at all, it was about her friends. The people who helped pull her through some very dark days of changing schools, and shyness, and self-acceptance.

I remembered something I fantasized about a very long time ago when it was clear she was a very smart young girl, and that she really was pushing for all As, every time. I imagined she might one day become Valedictorian and give a speech while I sat in the audience. I imagined her sharing how very important her father's role in her life had been. I remember as I thought those thoughts how important that would have made me feel, how valuable.

What an IDIOT I was, and am. I've always been honest with this blog and I will not stop being honest now. I am embarrassed of the part of myself that seeks such glory, any glory at all really. How many times do I have to learn and remember that "IT'S NOT ABOUT ME?" This incessant child within constantly clamoring for the spotlight needs to die. Really die. Finally die.

"Whatever it is that you think you need Richie, it's not glory. Glory is fleeting and empty and will not meet the need you have. So, please, go back to sleep while the big people talk."

(tip toes away)

Dora's speech was a perfect display of exactly what I want her to know (or believe), her father is a part of her and needs no mention, or glory, or awards. She has been told over and again that the honor is hers. She earned every A, by herself. She wrote every paper, well, many papers, by herself. She is a testament to grit and determination born of her own identity, her own drive. No one could have given it to her.

No one drives up to a beautiful home and gazes at the foundation saying what a wonderful job it is doing of holding up the house. No. They look at what has been built upon that foundation with admiration.

Dora's mother and I had a job and we have continued to do our job...To lay a foundation and then to help where we are able as she has builds something beautiful, marvelous upon that foundation. That is why I am so proud of her. What SHE has built within herself.

So her speech was not about her parents, no Valedictorian speech should ever be about one's parents. Her speech was about something over which I had no control, her friends. Her "real" friends mind you; the ones who believed in her before she believed in herself. Her friends who "accept her as she is." As she put it. And she continued, "I couldn't have made it without them."

God answers prayer my dear readers. It is what her mother and I have prayed for for a very long time: provision of good people who would continue to lead her into and through places we are not able to walk with her.

So I sit and type acknowledging that I have lived long enough to see my daughter surpass me in ways I never imagined. That is more rewarding than any nod in my direction. That is what every parent longs for. Loving your child, pouring yourself into your child is not the end in itself, it is the beginning of their own ability to be poured into by others, and to pour themselves out for others. This is one of her main goals: to make others around her happy.

A lofty goal, and fraught with peril, but who is going to argue with the desire?

I have also lived long enough for my daughter to become a caretaker of her father as I was and am a caretaker of her. She looks out for me, she is gentle in her rebukes of me (which I need from time to time). She forgives me, and she reaches out to me.

I will decrease in importance in her life and other's will increase. Why, because a foundation isn't missed until is broken and I choose not to be broken. I will remain in place, firmly planted, doing exactly what a parent is designed to do for their child. Providing firm, unwavering support. I'm not concrete, so I will fail from time to time, but the foundation is there. Through triumph, through storms.

Fly Dora. You won't need it often, but you will always have a place to land.

Dare Greatly!

Oh, and where does the time go? It goes into the greatness of those we spend it on.