As “they” say: “you’re only as happy as your most unhappy kid”.
My little Emma Jo is learning how to use email. She has her own .me (Apple) account, and is rather focused and demanding when it comes to protocol. For example, I will likely receive a call on my cellular telephone this afternoon from a potentially irate Emma Jo minutes after she launches a communique:
“Daddy, I sent you an email how come you didnot send me one?”
However, this will certainly present itself with an opportunity and an invitation out for ice cream at Bruesters, some hand-holding and possibly roller skating. So, mine is the advantage, to be sure.
As many of you know, Haley Anne is embroiled in a revolution, of sorts, at her Middle school. She was also recently named as a captain on her soccer team. Additional strain on her emerging thirteen year old psyche includes a titanic effort to improve her grades (especially math and social studies) in order to qualify for a new cellular telephone (the current model apparently is not feature rich enough). All this while her heart is breaking over the broken relationship with her erstwhile best friend:
“Daddy I didn’t think she could be so mean!”
[…just wait my love. There is so much grand adventure, promise and heartbreak ahead. And, I want to be there, just off of your shoulder, every step of the way.]
Every earthly father must see the visage of an angel in the face(s) of our beloved (oh, unyielding cherish!) daughters. They can never represent anything but the best that life can promise – all the while inspiring unseemly fear in our hearts around events uncertain. I must trust that my role in Haley Anne and Emma Jo’s lives will offer it’s lasting impressions. And, I can trust their judgment (Haley Anne’s, anyway with Emma Jo only seven). I have only the requirement that holds me true to my own course – and ever vigilant reminder to reflect and represent and lead, some how, by example.
I love being a Dad.
Peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.
Brian Patrick Cork