The Runtyun

She was born the same month that I was, forty years later though. When the excitement of the birth was over and the baby was clean and wrapped up in her birthing cloths, when I stopped feeling woozy and found a certain control over my emotions. The nurse handed me the cooing little bundle–my daughter.

She was warm in my arms. All I could see were her eyes, they were so big. I know that at only a few minutes of age there is not very much for a baby to reference, yet she looked straight at me and she had me. At the time I did not know the adventures that I would go through as a father. The things I would endure as a parent and man. At the time all I saw were eyes and a bright red pudgy face and a little bubble of saliva at the corner of her mouth.

I put her down on the birthing table and just stared. What had I done? This little creature, perfect with ten toes and ten fingers, one little head that looked too big for that little body. What had I done? I put my hand out to her to see what she would do. Nothing. I guess she could not see–being only few minutes old. My finger brushed her hand, she did not jump, but reached out and gripped my finger. She was strong!

She would have to be strong coming into the life I was involved in. We went through a few struggles before getting to the somewhat stable life we live now. During her toddler years she was very out going. Her smile in the morning was brighter than the sun at sunrise. It carried me through some of my darkest days.

Now she is so wise, yet strangely naive. She can understand things beyond her years, yet in another minute ask a question so innocent that I can only wonder. The Runtyun is growing into a fine person despite my parenting skills.

I have stumbled through this whole parenting experiment and you know what? She is doing pretty well despite me.


Thursday, March 21, 2013

A little talk


We were riding to church for an Easter egg stuffing event in anticipation of next Sunday. I am not sure how the conversation started, I think we were talking about who would be supervising the kids. No wait, The Runtyun said, “She will not be there until later, I think her friend will be there to start it off. She says that there will probably be  more candy eating than egg stuffing going on.” I heard the laugh telling me this was OK with her!
“She is her wife, right?” I inquired over the roar of the Detroit steel.
“No I don’t think they are married,” was her reply. 
“O? She seems to think so, maybe in their hearts,” not wanting to get into the intricacies of marriage while riding in traffic.
“I guess it does not really matter. They love each other, right Daddy?”
What more could I say to that?

I guess it is true that the controversy is only in the minds of us more mature people. I hope us mature people can learn from our innocent youth.

olc
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