I’m not a manly man. Don’t have a beard, don’t drink whiskey (or even beer), don’t fix things. When my oil needs to be changed, I let a professional do it.
I’m not really much of a girly man either. I have no fashion sense, don’t particularly care about The Notebook, and I don’t pick up after myself much more than enough to keep rodents at bay.
But sometimes, I cry.
When my daughter was born, I cried. I was so happy she came out appearing healthy. To say it was a miracle is a bit cliche, but it touched my heart in a way I can’t describe. I was beyond happy.
I don’t really show much; I’m pretty straight-faced. But my daughter makes me cry.
I can’t even figure out what it is. But if I look at pictures of her long enough, particularly any pictures older than a few months where I can see how much she’s changed, I can’t help but cry.
Hermoine likes to watch old videos of AmoebaJr. The other day, I’m sitting at my computer and I see AmoebaJr videos on the next computer over (we have separate computers; is that normal?). Videos of her early days walking. Exploring. Seeing her reflection in the oven window or the storm door. She has always been so cute. And, sure babies cry and have tantrums (and destroy stuff!), but she has always been so happy. She’s a happy kid. Does she know how loved she is? It makes me sad to see other kids when their parents are being mean to them. I don’t want to be mean to AmoebaJr. Of course, she’s not going to like a lot of what I do, but I always want it to be for her. More that I’m a stay at home dad than I think I would otherwise because she spends so much time with me, I want to treat her the best I can. Sure, I should do way more activities that teach her things, but she’s learning at a wonderful pace and it’s not my job to entertain her.
When Hermoine was watching those videos the other day, I made sure she had saved copies. She has videos on her computer and on SkyDrive. She also put them on a portable hard drive so we can have even more redundancy. I have mine on my computer as well as in Dropbox and on my external hard drive. These are windows into the past I do not want to lose. Photos are awesome and I don’t want to lose those, but video captures so much more. If a picture is worth a thousand words and we film at 24 frames per second, then a minute-long video is easily worth over a million words.
As she finished up with the backups, Dance With My Father by Luther Vandross started playing. Even if you don’t know the song, you’ve probably heard it, since it won the Grammy for Song of the Year. It’s basically an autobiographical song about the memories Luther Vandross has of his father, who passed away when Luther was only 7. I can’t help but think of AmoebaJr whenever that song plays. For her to have that kind of love for me and what that would mean for both of us.
Just as looking through those pictures and videos of my daughter makes me cry, so did this writing this post. I never thought I’d love someone so much that I’d cry just from looking at her picture or thinking of her.