All That Glitters

Being the father of a young daughter has many aspects. There is the part when I am the final say in things with her. There is the part when I hold her in my arms and let her cry on my shoulder. There is the part when I realize nothing I can say or do can help her at that very moment and all this precious little girl needs is her mother.

There are though other parts of the father-daughter dynamic. There are times to run, play and jump. There are times to read books and ask questions and stretch her imagination. There are times to tickle toes, times to hold hands and times to giggle and guffaw until we snort and slobber.

I know though with a daughter I will go down a path I am not totally familiar traveling. Understand I have several nieces so I am not blind to what I may yet experience in a world with a little girl. Over the years, these nieces have played beauty shop with my hair. They have schooled me in games of Old Maid, rummy and Candyland. They have even taught me a new appreciation for the colors pink and purple. Still, being an uncle is different than being a dad since dad is on duty much more often than an uncle.

I understand with Hannah I will attend the tea parties she hosts even though I likely will hold my tea cup the incorrect way. I understand I will help change baby doll clothes before being asked to feed and rock to sleep this same baby doll. I understand I will see lots of coloring books and watch a lot of movies with princesses. I even understand I will be the bug killer when she is frightened by some creepy crawly thing and will have to fight off imaginary monsters lurking in the dark just outside her room.

I know these things. I accept these things. These things are just part of what comes along with being a dad when he has a daughter. There is one thing though I have totally underestimated in this father-daughter world. That one thing is the abundance of glitter.

I am surprised at a few things with glitter. The first thing is how often glitter is used. Crafts from daycare and Sunday school object lessons use it a good bit to decorate projects ranging from homemade Father’s day gifts to the birth of Jesus Christ. Then there are craft project kits which are part of the toys and things Hannah has accumulated at home. Some of these kits come well equipped with glitter. The second thing I have learned about glitter is that a little bit goes a long way. Really, this is the focus of what I have come to understand about glitter. Glitter never goes away. Once it comes out of its container it will be around for a very long time.

When I am least thinking about glitter I often find it stuck to the bottom of my socks or to my shirt sleeve. Sometimes from across a room I see something give off a small glimmer on Jennifer’s blouse only to discover it is a piece of glitter that landed there from who knows where. I see a speck of glitter at night nestled in the carpet. I see a speck resting in Hannah’s hair. I discover a fleck of glitter sometimes stuck like glue on the glass of my phone. Once a bottle of glitter is opened somewhere the specks that are inside come out and stay and stay and stay. Glitter never ever seems to go away.

I understand with children that glitter can be exciting. It is shiny and shimmering. It can add a certain pizzazz few other things can to a coloring sheet or paper doll cut-out. I see that children can find it to be pretty awesome.

Glitter in the world of a little girl seems inevitable because in today’s world seemingly every little girl makes a claim to be a princess. If she doesn’t her parents or grandparents or aunts or uncles will make that claim for her. With that said, you better believe if a little girl or someone she loves thinks she is a princess then a tiara or crown will have to be somewhere nearby. Bet your bottom dollar then that any tiara or crown will be decorated in some way with some form of glitter.

I get it. Shiny things are exciting. Still, this glitter stuff never goes away. In the long run though this is okay. It isn’t a big enough issue to be any sort of problem that needs a lot of worry attached to it. Trust me, I can live with someone pointing out a stray speck of glitter stuck to my pants backside. It is all part of being a dad to his daughter.

What would be justice though would be a time hopefully many years removed from now. My time on earth would have just completed. My loved ones would gather together for final farewells. Somehow it would seem appropriate on such an occasion if someone there then took one last look at my age-riddled face, gasped then asked, “Did you see that?”

Someone else would reply, “What?”

“That. There.” This person would point to a place just under one of my eyes.

Another person would peer in, narrowing eyes to provide focus, then say, “Yeah, I think I see it.”

“What is it?”

Others would crowd round before everyone eventually would be crammed together taking a gander in an attempt to solve the mystery. Then someone would very quietly say, “You know, I think it’s a piece of glitter.”

I hope those gathered then would laugh just a little knowing how much that moment would make me do the same.

Looking, Finding

Then

An April shower dotted the ground with a layer of moisture. Spring was stretching, waking up then. The grass, finally green for the first time in months, and, now, nearly greener than green, had just been cut earlier that day for the first time since the previous autumn. In the sneaking-in shadows of the evening, wet grass clippings stuck to the concrete as if they had been placed then glued there. The smell of the rain blended together with the sweet scent of newly mown grass, the earthy aroma of the ground and the rising humidity in the air to dance together in a sweet symphony which defined that day and framed the new season.

A way of life which had become second nature was almost over though. It would soon give way to new paths, new journeys. Goodbyes would be said, some temporary, some permanent.

I walked this familiar ground in one set direction, certain of where I needed to go, but in some yet unrealized sense headed away from some things and toward other things. With each physical step I also traveled more inward, losing myself in all that I knew at that moment. These things I knew then were all that seemed to matter, even though some of what tossed around in my head collided with a few things tossing around in my heart and most all of these things jumbled together made no sense no matter how much thought was devoted to each specific thing. My steps carried me to a room, quiet and isolated, where I was all alone.

That song had floated around before sticking itself in my head, replaying without effort more often than I wished and sometimes when I didn’t want to hear it at all. Sensing change ahead, I turned on that song. I turned it loud. I played it over and over. I thought about the people and things I knew and how any resolution with some of them did not seem like it could be left satisfactorily, either for them or for me or for both of us. Young and yearning, spinning and churning, thinking, knowing I knew what was best for the moment, not yet comprehending the vast stretch of time that was before me I played that song over and over. I thought of people in my life and wondered what, if anything, they wanted from me, what they expected from me then I thought about the things I wanted and expected from them. All that remained for me to do was wonder where these new paths, these new journeys would take each of us.

Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find
Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find

Eventually, I stopped playing the song and returned myself to that late April evening when, right as rain, I knew the answers even if I didn’t want to reach deep down inside and accept each one. That was me then, in front of the future, my feet dangling over the edge, waiting, hoping, wondering what was to come.

Now

An August rain shower drives by quickly, a bit of wind, rapid-fire lightning strikes and rumbles of thunder all packaged into a transitory dark pillow of clouds. Making itself comfortable, summer has made a home. The grass, withering from the seasonal heat, is crunchy, turned into a faded green, an exact color never found on a painter’s palette but maybe one discovered in the details of an old faded, forgotten photograph. The smells of a parched earth teased by the wetness of a summer shower rise up from the ground invisible next to the dancing steam the rain and heat produce like some mid-summer daydream in the middle of reality.

It is a place where contentment found its bearings and settled for a residency. Along the way were a few twists and turns but mostly this path has been an incredible passage, one worth any bumps in the road along the way.

Here, and, in this direction is the ground I now walk. After all the years though, and, despite a sure footing, I find I still walk away from some things and toward other things. The solitary stillness of a moment finds me then immerses me in all I have come to know. The things that have come to matter, these things I have come to know, unflinchingly matter, unfailingly know, in my heart and in my head have become clearer along this path. This journey, with its mileage and the time expended from one place then to this place now have brought the trip’s scenery into a splendidly brilliant focus. Now and again though the pace of my steps slow and I go back to that other time, that other place.

The song sprung on me unexpectedly, out of the misty, foggy haze of days gone by. Once inside my head though it was like a friend from the old days, familiar, comfortable. Sensing how I needed to hear that song, I turned it on. After it played, I played it again, this time louder than before and when it finished, I played it again and then again. Brave and burning, whirling and turning, thinking, knowing somewhere rested moments hidden in the clouds of memory in some time and place nestled in the vast space of passage now behind me. I tried to look back with the eyes I had then, searching for the wants, the needs that were so definite then but soon enough I discovered those things impossible now to grasp. I then thought about that time, that place and how I once inhabited a space there. I thought of those I knew then and wondered about all the expectations shared between us. I wondered about the paths and journeys all of us had traveled from that time forward to now.

Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find
Wish I knew what you were looking for
Might have known what you would find

I let the song fade into quiet and discovered August, and my world, again; there I found them just where I had left them earlier and just like they were before my brief escape, lived-in and as certain as certain can be. And, here I am now, my feet planted in yesterday’s future, looking back over time marveling at the trip thus far but still waiting, still hoping, still wondering at what is to come.

A Wonder...

Happy birthday to our daughter, Hannah!
A wonder of God’s own creation…
Challenging our balance…
Confounding…
Astounding…
Still, we believe…
Fate can smile…
Destiny can laugh…
Still, she is able…
With love…
With patience…
With faith…
She makes her way…
A wonder of God’s own creation…