Birthday Girl

Today is my daughter's birthday. Sometimes it is difficult to believe how many years have gone by since my bride rushed into my office, shut the door, and told me, "We're pregnant!" My wife of nearly 3 years was so excited, she received a speeding ticket on the drive over to tell me the magnificent news. I got up from behind my desk, went to my bride, hugged and kissed her, told her how much I loved her, and how thrilled I was.

That was the beginning of my new love affair. Unlike most contemporary parents in those days, we didn't want to know the gender of our new baby, preferring to be surprised when the newborn made it's arrival. So, as the nine months achingly dragged by, we thought up names for both boys and girls.

After a false start by one day, caused by phantom contractions, we arrived at the hospital on December 8th, 1974, both sleep-deprived and excited beyond belief. After a few hours of employing our well-practiced La Maze class breathing techniques, the doctor interrupted this by advising us, saying, "She (My beautiful bride) is simply too tired, we're going to give her some help." At that point, I was escorted out of the birthing room, left to my own fears, and quickly began to chain-smoke cigarettes.

It seemed like hours later, though really less than 30 minutes, when a nurse advised me that I was a father. She directed me to an area where I would be able to see my first child, and, again, I patiently waited for my baby's arrival. Soon, the nurse appeared holding this impossibly small human, swaddled in a blanket, eyes shut, with a cap on it's head. All I could see was it's tiny facial features. I know I finally shouted to her through the glass, "What is it?", probably too loud. The nurse peeled back the blanket, showing me my lovely infant daughter. I melted into tears at that moment.

A few minutes later, I was allowed back to spend some time with my bride. The love of my life, who had produced this wonderful addition to our lives. She was exhausted and still reeling from the drugs that had been administered to her. Of course, I held her again, told her how beautiful our daughter was, how much I loved her, and she fell quietly asleep.

It was then that a nurse came into the room with this incredible little girl, asking if we'd like to spend some time with her. As my wife was mostly knocked out, I had the extreme pleasure of holding her first. It is something I will never, ever forget. As I looked her over once again, I remember Thanking God for His gift to us and silently promising Him, my bride, and my little girl, that I would do my best to take care of her.

When I left the hospital a few hours later, I first stopped at church to again Thank Him. I know the priest who happened by must have thought something must be terribly wrong as I was again crying. The emotions just came forth as I thanked God for His wonderfulness in giving us this beautiful little angel and for allowing my beautiful bride to come through the ordeal of childbirth unscathed.

The years, of course, went by. As a toddler, she was incredibly cute. People would often stop us and tell us how precious she was. Like we didn't know it. Only one time I can remember that I actually got mad at her during the toddler years. We, my daughter and I, were going somewhere, and I stopped to get gas. I got out of the car to pump the gas and left the keys in the car. Big mistake. She pushed down the lock. So I was completely locked out of the car. In Denver. In the winter. As I implored her to open the lock, she kept smiling at me and waving, thinking we were playing. Of course, daddy - freezing And thinking this is NOT so cute - is trying to coax his angel to open the lock. It took probably 15 minutes or so before she finally did.

As a young girl, I have too many memories of her to state here, but she was ALWAYS a joy to her mom and I. One memory that jumps to mind was when we took her to a restaurant. She was so social. She simply would not finish her food, and as it was a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, her mom and I de4cided to wait her out until she ate all of the food on her plate, thinking that this is one of the things as parents we must teach her to do. We did, in fact teach her this lesson. FOUR hours later.

I remember taking her to the first Father/daughter dance. I felt so privileged to do so. And to her first rock concert. Huey Lewis and the News. We came out of that with our ears ringing and laughing about it. In later years, for my birthday, she and her fiance (now husband) took me to see The Rolling Stones - one of my favorite groups.

My daughter was an incredible swimmer in high school. My wife and I attempted to make it to every swim meet there was. She qualified for, and placed in, State finals in both Texas and Oklahoma. And, at the swim team banquet after her junior year in Houston, she was elected captain of the women's team. I danced with her at that banquet knowing I had to give her some bad news, but I couldn't tell her then. I couldn't ruin her moment. We were moving. Before her senior year in high school.

It was awful. For a time, we thought we'd have to leave our beautiful daughter behind in Texas when we moved to Oklahoma. Frankly, we finally prepared for this, contacting parents of one of her best friends from high school, and arranging for her to live the year with them. We were all heartbroken about this.

Then, our little girl reached the final stages of womanhood. She announced to us that her place was with us. She would be moving to Oklahoma with us. The relief our family felt - her brothers too - was immense. Though the first few weeks of her high school career were a bit rocky, she eventually thrived, and did extremely well. Her GPA flourished. She did well on the swim team. She met a boy.

Soon it was time to check out colleges, and she selected the University of Oklahoma. Because our girl was so smart, she was able to test out of some classes and enter as a second semester Freshman. Just like her, if you were to ask her parents. Always a step ahead of the rest of her contemporaries. ALWAYS making her parents proud. She decided to go into the Greek system - and had a perfect rush - getting chosen by the sorority she wanted from the beginning, and one of the top ones on Campus.

As 4 years of college flew by, she was, of course, on top of her game, excelling in virtually everything. Just as we knew she would. Going to her college graduation was such a thrill for my bride and I, as neither of us had experienced the thrill personally. But, our girl did! That day we also met the man she would later marry.

As her career began and flourished, our pride in our daughter continued. She achieved more than we ever could have expected that morning in Florida when we first laid eyes on her. We also watched her fall in love with a wonderful young man, whom we also grew to love. When he called me and asked me if I could spend some time with him as he wanted to talk to me, I thrust my arm into the air, thinking "YES!!!" We knew he was "The one" almost from the time we first saw him.

Seeing my little girl moments before walking her down the aisle, dressed so beautifully in her wedding gown, was similar to the scene in "Father of the Bride" where Steve Martin looks at his daughter at the dinner table as she is announcing her intent to wed, and he flashes back on all the memorable times of his daughter and he. I, of course, being the sentimental old Irishman that I am, teared up and almost lost it.

Going forward a few years, we were visiting my princess and her husband, and as only she could do, she said she had a present for us. She handed a wrapped gift to my wife, who opened it at my urging. As my wife screamed, ran to my angel, embraced her, kissed her, I, of course sat there clueless as a typical sit-com father. After a few seconds, my wife handed me the present. It was a simple picture frame, around the edges "I love Grandpa and Grandma", inserted inside the frame, "picture coming, May 4th". Obviously, I jumped up, held my daughter, my wife, my son in law, and, of course, started crying again.

Flash forward almost 9 months. Phone rings. "Dad, the doctor is gonna induce labor. Do you think you & mom can come down today?" If this hadn't been my Poopsie, I would have answered with something sarcastic,like, "Uh, Gee, I don't know, there's a movie on TV I was thinking of maybe watching." Instead, I said, "Let me call mom, we'll be there as soon as possible." We made the 2 hour drive in less than an hour and 15 minutes. This was MY DAUGHTER. About to give birth.

So, then, our first Grandchild. Jacob. God, we love that boy. HE is, like his mother, beautiful. Smart. Personality plus. Just an incredible kid. He is 5 1/2 now. And HIS mother, my daughter, is an incredible mother. No real surprise there. She has been incredible in everything she has ever done. Her husband is pretty incredible too, spending time with their son teaching him in some ways I never thought of. I guess it's just another way she proved herself. She chose the right guy.

Forest Gump probably said it best, "Momma used to say, 'Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get'".

In our case, when we opened our box of chocolates, we were lucky enough to get the best, the sweetest. Our daughter.

So, to my daughter - Happy Birthday! You will ALWAYS be my little girl - even though you've grown up to be the strongest, most self assured, independent woman we know. You are kind, yet firm. A gentle, loving mother. A beautiful woman - inside and out.

I am so proud of you - and I love you more than you'll ever know.

Dad