The Day I Broke My Little Girls Heart…

While cleaning out the storage room in the basement, I emptied a worn box that contained fond memories of my little girl.  As I reminisced about her younger days I found a note written describing an emotional day we shared.

Today I broke my little girl’s heart…

It was not intentional nor was it malicious, but it happened just the same.  The morning started like many others, happily walking to kindergarten singing silly rhymes and making faces at each other.  We approached the school full of anticipation of a new day and new opportunities.

STOP!  The principal wants to speak with us.  Maybe he wants to tell my little Mickey Blue Eyes how cute she looks this morning (isn’t it obvious?).  His smile looks slightly more serious – then he says it.  Starting today, children need to walk to their classrooms by themselves, without help.

Truthfully, I knew this day was coming but I hoped it would go unnoticed when I took her to class.  I wonder who this daily journey means more to, me or her.  I want these moments together to last forever.  I need this special bonding time with her each day.  This walk of joy is something we both look forward to and depend upon, just daddy and his little girl.

I begin to explain the change of plans and I see fear slowly overtaking her.  This sage principal must see the sadness in my eyes and graciously allows us one last trip down the hallway together.  One last time, the end is now here.  I need these moments with her; she wants this time with her daddy.  I sit her down outside the classroom and give my angel this disingenuous pep talk about being brave and becoming a big girl.  Who am I fooling?

In the depths of my heart I know this is needed but I’m crushed to see the disappointed stare posses her cherubic face.  Daddy isn’t holding fast to his promise to always make her feel safe and protected.  I wonder if this is the way a mother robin feels right before she pushes her baby out of the nest.  Just like that baby robin, I hope she remembers what we taught her…now’s the time to fly on your own.

Alone, what a terrible feeling.  This is exactly what she feels now.  The tears are real, not contrived to manipulate an already over emotional daddy.  I hear myself saying she must be a good soldier, be brave, be strong, and be all the things we’ve tried to instill in you.

As I walk away I look back one last time.  I need reassurance I’m doing the right thing.  I look back hoping to catch her wave or maybe blow a kiss.  What do I see?  My little baby girl, my precious gift, my angel, my sweetheart…Standing with her face in her hands crying.

I’m so sorry.

Now it’s daddy’s turn to go cry.