Tuesday, June 3, 2008

A Morning Ritual...

I have been divorced now for 7+ years. Being an involved Father, I thought I wouldn't be able to see my children enough. As luck would have it, I have my daughter Wednesday night through Monday each week, and she is dropped off at my home each morning to take the bus to school from my house. I am lucky. I am fortunate. I am rich. I could cry.

So for the last few years, my daughter comes into the house for a few minutes before I drive her to the bus stop several streets away. We have some great morning chats, or other times we don't say much of anything.

If you read my post yesterday (which was really earlier this morning), you knew I had a hard time getting to sleep with all the emotions I had going on. I was tired. Very tired. I went to bed at 1:45am and my clock goes off at 5:30am, but I usually roll out of bed 5 or 10 minutes after that.

This morning, however, I slept through the alarm. And when I looked at the clock, it said 5:50am. I awoke in a panic and my first thought was that I did not hear the upstairs shower running, so my daughter was not up yet. Oh my goodness...she is going to be late because I am late. It takes her over an hour to get ready in the morning, and it is so quiet in the house. All of these thoughts are racing through my head. To save time of going to the bottom of the stairs yelling to her, I decide to call her cell phone because we all know it is still on and not charging!

As I hear the first ring of the phone, I realize. IT'S TUESDAY. I hang up. She is not even IN my house. She is at her mothers. I laugh at myself, and as I think, "Man, Ron, are you tired and out of it.." the phone rings. I jump. And I did NOT yell like a girl. I answer the phone and it is the tired voice of my daughter. "Dad, did you call me?" I said, "Yes, but never mind. My bad." She chuckles and says, "See you later."

When I hear the car door outside slam shut, I know my daughter is here. She comes in and I begin my usual welcoming greeting. "Froo Froos is here! I missed you! Did you miss me?" She looks at me smiling slightly and says, "Dad, it's early." I tell her that I called her so early because I thought she was in my house and we were late. She laughs.

Then an amazing thing happened. She came over to me and just rested her head on my shoulder. We stood there in the kitchen and she just rested herself. She is 14 and at an age where it is not cool to hug your parents, so this one moment was very special to me. It reminded me of when she was a baby and she would fall fast asleep in my arms. I didn't move and only said that I loved her and that she was the best daughter in the world. She quickly said, "Umm, Dad, I am your only daughter." I quickly said, "How do you know that for sure?" She then laughed and said, "Yeah. Right." I said, "It could have happened!" She says, "Ok, Dad, OK!"

Time for the bus! I love the morning ritual at my house. And I do have the best daughter in the whole world.


Meg said...

I haven't been able to read through your whole sister post yet. But I sure hope she's ok.

I really wanted to share this with you- not sure if you've seen them - I thought they were cute: http://www.etsy.com/view_listing.php?listing_id=10314948

I know they aren't actually Pez, but the subtle resemblance is nifty. (nifty?)

The Pez Man said...

Well, Meg, I , umm, I actually thought no one was really reading my blogs, so I did not worry about length. I am a lengthy type of guy in general, but I used to think that was because I had so much to contribute and so much to communicate. Hmm..maybe I should blog about that.