Dear Annabella
Dear Annabella,
Today you and I went down to Capitola to see about a Mother's Day present. We looked in quite a few stores at wind chimes, necklaces, diamonds, sarongs, candles, and jelly beans. I don't think I really explained what we were doing - who we were shopping for. Had I done that I'm sure you would have insisted on that "fairy princess" wind chime you had to play with fourteen times. Instead we had a nice walk through the city, holding hands and talking about whatever struck us at the moment - the "bear factory", cars, bands, or candy.
You had on a pair of white sandals - a hand-me-down, I'm sure - something you hadn't warn before. You told me quite a few times that your feet hurt. After a few stops and a few adjustments I noticed that your big toes were starting to get red, that a sore had formed on the top of each. I felt so bad. We took them off and I stuck em in my pockets.
But, aside from the pain in your feet you couldn't have been happier. You got to prance barefoot through Capitola on a warm sunny day. You were so carefree I think you made people jealous. I watched so many look at you as if you'd just won the lottery. Who would have guessed the secret to happiness was bare feet.
But I didn't write this letter to tell you about our day or how great it was - that's a happy biproduct. I'm writing you this letter to tell you that I love you, that you make me want to be a better father, that I'm sorry my attention hasn't been on you as much as it should.
I love you and your mom and now Red and I have found myself feeling emotionally inept and clumsy. I've not figured it all out yet - my priorities, my drive, my purpose. All I know is that I've got the three of you and I find myself worrying about the wrong things. I worry about the bills or work or the house or something immaterial. I've lost sight of what's most important to me and I find myself saddened. It hit me today like a ton of bricks.
You see, when we were walking through Capitola, after I'd helped you with your shoes, I wasn't thinking about the bills or work or the house, I was just hanging out with you. It was so innocent and pure and really made me happy. At one point I looked down at you as we walked and you were just staring back up at me. You were smiling, so simple, so beautiful. I felt so much love from you. In that moment you were a reflection of the father I want to be.
Tonight, after we'd had a special family movie night, you didn't want the movie to end, you didn't want to read just one book and you didn't want to listen to anything we had to say. We ended up in a power struggle and tears and yelling and tantrums and needless to say I found myself wondering about this extraordinary contradiction of emotions. What would cause such a severe change from our wonderful time in Capitola?
I started to think about what I've been doing and whether or not I've been doing the right thing. Have I been too focused on the bills and work or did I make the wrong decision when I took you to Minnesota? Or, has my attention on your mom and Red been the reason that you've been having these outbursts? Is there something that I missed? How can we go from such a happy time to such a sad time in such a short amount of time?
These are hard questions for me because I tend to over-analyze things, searching for some sort of cause. I've already spent too many hours worrying about these types of questions, trying to assess some sort of fault. In the end I think it's probably more important that I skip the analysis and focus on progress; assume the worst and make things better.
We'll never rid ourselves of the hiccups in life but if we I want to have more days like today I had better make them happen. I think "bills" and "work" are just excuses I make to make myself feel like I'm doing a good job as your dad. But, that's just an excuse. Your adoration never reflects how hard I work, only the simple pleasures and time we share together.
I love you very much. You'll always be my little girl.
Your,
dad.
















