Some people say fatherhood changes you. And maybe they right. But for me, it didn’t make me someone new, it just made me more of who I already was. I still laugh at dumb jokes and eat way too many snacks at night, but I’m softer now. I’m more sensitive. And I carry a kind of love I never knew existed til she came into my life.
We went to this indoor amusement park once. It had everything. Roller coaster, go karts, mini golf, mini bowling, laser tag, all that. She wanted to try it all and wasn’t scared of none of it. We rode the little coaster six times back to back. Did three go kart runs. Played everything multiple times. And the best part? She looked at me mid race and said “This is just like Mario Kart.” Her little brain lit up and I swear I could’ve cried right there on the track.
That’s the stuff I think about a lot. The way her face lights up when I walk into daycare. Or when I show up at Grandma’s after work and she runs to the door yelling “Dad!” like I’m the best thing she seen all day. The way she hears music and just says “Let’s dance” like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. She helps me cook, even if we make a mess. Every little thing becomes a memory.
I won’t lie though. There’s still fear in me. After the separation, after the way things were almost taken, part of me still lives scared that something could do it again. That maybe one day I’d wake up and not have her with me anymore. And yeah, that might be irrational. But it’s there. And I got all the regular dad fears too. Having a daughter means knowing how cruel the world can be to women. And she’s biracial, so I’m scared of the racism she might face too. I just wanna protect her from everything, even if I can’t.
But more than anything, I just hope she remembers the love. I hope when she’s older, she looks back and knows how hard I tried. That she remembers the hiking trips and the parks. Chuck E. Cheese. All the times we got a hotel just so she could swim in the winter cause it’s her favorite thing. I hope she remembers the dancing, the cooking, the nights I held her when she was sick.
Being a dad is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But it’s also the best. She gave me a reason to be better. A reason to feel something again. A reason to stay. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.