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Thursday, June 30, 2011

Last we left off...

The father was rushing to get his daughter moving.  He has struggled in recent weeks with guilt and angst. Since school ended he has seen or spent time with his only child for maybe a few hours a day.

He wakes her from a sound sleep and whisks her to camp.

He picks her up from camp and tries to feed her tired bones before racing her to a softball event.  He picks her up from softball and tries to feed her again before some bad TV (I am talking to you Big Time Rush!!!!.)

Next day more of the same.  Tonight marks 11 days straight.  Games.  Practices.  Ice Cream parties.  Matter of time before you is in the front seat of a friends BMW on her way to the high school.  And it might be eating at dad a bit.

On the other hand the experiences and friendships she builds are essential.  Part of a team and community.  Learning what it takes to sit on a bench and support, rather than be the focal point.  Feeling the anguish of losing.  "How come we keep losing the lead in the last inning??"

About an hour passed after the heartbreaking 2-1 loss last night before she even spoke.  "Stop talking about it!!" she commanded.

Dad thought the old cliche:  "They will come into your building in a few weeks and you can exact revenge" line was gonna make it all better.

"What does that even mean dad?"  she muttered back, holding in tears.

"Learn, take it all in, remember the feeling"  I shot back.

That was it.  And soon a break.   "Get through practice tonight and I think it's time you act like a 9 year old for a few days."

It is summer after all.  Pools and fireworks beckon.  And did I mention the mandatory computer homework and three (effin 3!!!) books she has to read???

Thought she had learned all there was to learn during one of the taxi sessions over the past week.  When I discovered she was painting her nails in the backseat I calmly asked her to stop.

"The smell from that in a closed, air conditioned car is making me nauseous.  I would hate to have a hemorrhage on I-78."

"Well dad, you know the person that invented nail polish actually created it in a car" she politely responded.

Of course, how could I have forgotten?

Redemption does await.  Summers might not be the same as when I was a kid.  But there are plenty of things to get excited about.  I will be careful not to forget how she began this summer compared to how she begins 4th grade.

Soundtrack from early summer 2011:  You will be surprised at some of these

to name a few...  more tomorrow.

Final note:  may the NBA never come back!!!

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