The eyes of a child

I love seeing YaYa with my father. They are best buds. She lights up when he is around. Not just her eyes but her whole body lights up from inside her soul when he's around. "PAPPY!" She'll exclaim running toward him. She loves everything about him and he obviously feels the same about her as he does all 3 of his grandchildren. Even as I write she's looking at the photos above and saying, "I see pappy. Go see pappy now peas?" Sorry baby, not now. Pappy's working out of town now. Anyway... It's nice. Watching them together fills my heart with a joy like no other. I know we too had a relationship like this when I was her age. One where he walked on water and could do no wrong.

Then, things changed. What things I didn't know or understand. Looking back it was small things at first. I wouldn't eat all the food he put in front of me. I was a horribly picky eater. (Though this isn't such a problem today.) My dad has liked pretty much everything he's ever eaten. Food was almost a nightly battle between us. I also struggled in school and often didn't understand my schoolwork. He tried to help but he couldn't help me understand it without my falling apart in tears. I was growing up into an "emotional" girl. He had no idea how to deal with an emotional girl as he had a brother and no sisters growing up. The things that came easy in life for my father were a huge struggle for me and as a result, we no longer saw eye to eye. Heck I don't even think we saw knee to knee most of the time. All I wanted was for him to be proud of me but it wasn't meant to be during my high school and college years. At least not that I saw anyway.

We recently moved close to my parents thanks to my husband's new job. It's such a joy having him in our life. (Mom that goes for you too but this post is about dad.) It gives me a second chance to see him through a child's eyes. I'm loving every minute of it. I missed him and looking back have always always yearned for the closeness we had when I was little. I longed for him to smile at me with pride as he did when I was a child. I guess that's all he wanted from me in return too. Instead, I gave him the looks of, "You must be crazy, I can't eat that" or tears of frustration because I just couldn't understand the math equation he was helping me with.

Today, I am again crying tears but not of sadness, frustration or anger. Intead they are healing tears. I love my father and I feel very blessed to have him in my daughter's life. More importantly, I am proud to have him in my life. I love you dad!