My Daughter

My daughter left to go home on Monday night.

She came up here to see her grandfather for what she thought might be the last time. She was told he was dying.

My daughter discovered that was not precisely true.

He was ill, but he was far from dying. And my daughter brightened his world so much that he completely rallied and was able to leave the hospital yesterday.

In my opinion my daughter's presence brought the old man around and reminded him that he was loved and not to give up.

She did this once before. With my grandmother. When she was only two. My grandmother was living alone and slowly slipping away. I went to stay with her to help her and to allow my financial situation to straighten itself out. In those days my daughter stayed with me about three days each week.

The minute my little girl walked into her little dusty house you would have thought my grandmother had immediately lost twenty years off of her age. She got right up and helped straighten up the house, and then wanted to make my daughter lunch, and just brightened up like a flower blooming in response to the suns warming rays. My daughter gave her a reason to live and made her feel needed. Every day that my daughter spent in her house my grandmother got that much more animated and energetic.

And now at twenty years old she has done it again.

And her visit certainly shook up my little routine as well. She came in like a mini tornado, all chock full of life and eclectic opinions. She wanted to talk about politics (She absolutely hates Hillary and loves Obama). She wanted to talk about movies (Another passion we both share). And she wanted to talk about sex. I tried to be the cool parent but her absolute candor when discussing ALL things sexual was almost more then even my ultra liberal brain could digest.

It was great!

I love our deep conversations, the loving insults that we lob at each other, and how easy it is to be myself around her.

And she reminds me why I have this little website. She reminds me why I worry about our future. She reminds me that my voice is speaking for her future. And she even told me how much she appreciates what I write and that she tells her friends all about her combative father and how he spends hours on a computer taking on the bad guys and fighting the good fight.

It is all for you angel. It is all for you.