It seems like the last nine months have purely flown by.  Watching Zoey grow up has been a fantastic revelation of life, joy, heartbreak, compassion, faith and understanding.  Many of the things no one could be prepared for.  Sometimes, when I watch her (knowing that she does not realize that I am there) I think about all the things that have changed, that have happened.  I watch her happily playing with her toys, smiling, thinking, and figuring things out.  Every once in a while, I reflect on some of the more difficult things that this beautiful little girl has had to endure… and I am amazed that she is still so very happy.  I question what happiness is supposed to be.  In these times we seem to find ourselves racing each other to find the better phone, biggest television, fastest car, all for what? What is the prize for these things?  Is there some flag that we get to post at the top of the peak that says, we were here, we accomplished this?  Is that little tiny flag what you define as happiness?  Or should we all stop, just for a moment and consider the long spoke-of alternative.  I know that this is not a new way of thinking, but as I look at what I see around me, I wonder if it will ever become a way of actually thinking, not just this alternative that is talked about.  When my daughter sees me, when we make eye contact, there is this sparkle, that explodes in her eyes and turns into one of the most blessed smiles that in turn reaches deep in my chest and warms the inner-most core of my heart.  There is not a single item that I have ever held in my hands, or possessed that has even come close to having this effect on me.  Larger victories have had a smaller effect on my heart, on my way of thinking, on my faith than this adorable little smile.  In turn, to think that there is a completely different side of this story, that there are the boys, calling themselves men, that write a check and spend a weekend every once in a while with their kids.  Now, I must interject, that there are fathers that are in this situation because it was the right thing to do, and my respect for them is unshaken and overflowing.  For, when I see this smile I am filled with such warmth that my entire day becomes a blur.  This is only second to when I see my beloved bride, but that is another story.

The surgeries have been some of the most difficult things that I have had to watch anyone go through.  Knowing that I have been to hell and back, a few times, I figured that I would be able to stand strong and stalwart through it all.  But, leave it to the little light that glows so bright that is my daughter to prove me wrong.  There is something about being a parent, about knowing that there is this little life that is your joint responsibility with your spouse to mold, protect and speak for.  This responsibility adds more weight than many truly consider, or even sometimes care to realize.  Through the surgeries I found myself a nearly broken and fractured man sitting in the waiting room, waiting for time to pass.  The immense dread and joy of every tick-tock, finding its focus on my heartbeat… every minute feeling like an hour, and every hour feeling like a minute, congealing with a mass of emotions that make everything feel numb.  Fatherhood, as a state of mind, body and soul, does include the dark presence of fear.  The fear does not truly subside when the child is born, but is transposed into another facet of their lives… subject to constant change as time (the effervescent beast) goes on and on.  But, as a father, one thing rings true.  We are not to succumb to the presence of fear.  We are the knight in shining armor that is to fill our children’s dreams.  In the light of their eyes, we cannot fall.  It does make for rather sleepless nights.

So, here we are, just over nine months and a few procedures behind us.  I look down on my darling little daughter and remark in all the fantastic progress that she has made.  Her strength, will, love, drive and intelligence will not allow her to be held back.  She is nearly walking on her own, crawling like a bolt of lightning, pulling herself up on everything, teething like mad, and almost always a happy wonderful little girl.  All the while, I close my eyes from time to time and remember this little life that I once held with one arm, little hand reaching out and grabbing my finger, knowing then what I reaffirm now…

I AM A DAD, I am scared out of my mind, and I would give all that I am for this sweet little girl… and I will go down swinging.