Two Minutes

11 years ago I drove our gutless but reliable Subaru Outback down 405 towards Overlake Hospital where our first child would be born a few hours later. We named her Luca.

Although I’d had about eight months to prepare for her arrival, I was as stunned as the day Kim told me I was going to be a father. I had no words to describe the feeling nor was I sure how to reply so I did what came naturally and hugged her while thinking, “I’ve got to get my act together.”

Any apprehension I felt before that day, disappeared the first time I wrapped Luca in a blanket like a burrito and rocked her to sleep.

Today I’m lucky if she’ll jump on my lap while I’m at my computer or on the couch. She prefers to position herself so that she can text with friends while I rub her feet. I wonder what I did to deserve such a lovely daughter who is like me in some ways, but better in so many others?

Yesterday afternoon, I snuck in the back of the gym to watch her principal recognize students for their achievements in subjects ranging from music to math. After the assembly, we spent a few minutes talking before I kissed her head and sent her back to class.

On the return drive to work, I thought to myself, “I just took over an hour out of my day to spend maybe two minutes with my daughter”.

Maybe, after 11 years, I’m beginning to get my act together.