My Baby GirlA Story by ShyGuySharesAnd
when I saw her, my world just stopped. The air around me had gone completely
still. I felt no pulse. I felt no beat. My heart was robbed yet again, right at
that very moment. I didn't care that it felt like I couldn't breathe. I didn't
care that I started to tear up a bit. I just didn't care at all. The only thing
I cared about was her; Christine Nicole Darston, my beautiful baby girl. I
love to celebrate almost everything. Something new, if it's a first or what,
hell I'm sure we're all like that. The first and only (for me at least) time
you propose and get married, you have a party. The first time you have a baby.
Your friend gets a new pair of shoes; you go and step on it when you get the
chance to. May it be big or small, it's worth celebrating. I would have loved
to celebrate the birth of my only child. But. The day Christine came into my life,
was the same day my wife had to go. I can't think of any other moment more bittersweet
than this. It was going to be the happiest day of our lives, until it wasn't. Don't
get me wrong; I don't hate Christine at all. I wouldn't take back the fact that
she was born. No. If anything, I love her even more. She's my little angel. She
reminds me so much of my wife. They look so much alike. Just because my wife died
that day, doesn't mean I shouldn't celebrate it. It's also Christine's birthday
after all. I won't stop celebrating little Christine's feats, however big or
small. I
remember the first time she smiled at me, the first time she crawled, the first
time she pulled herself up and took her first ever step. Yeap. As little as she
was, she was able to restore my willingness to celebrate every little
firsts. That's just who I am. I was lucky enough to catch on tape all those
small achievements of hers. The first time she laughed, and my God, when she
first spoke. There she was, walking around the living room, me with my video
recorder just filming her run and laugh. Then she said it, "dada."
Immediately when she spoke, I dropped my camera and ran towards Christine and
gave her a big hug. I couldn't believe that my little Christine was talking
already! They
grow up so fast. What a big understatement. It feels like magic
actually. Right in front of your eyes, without you even noticing, they
grow up. One moment she's this diaper wearing, bottle drinking baby, and
the next she's a little kid running around your backyard playing with her toys.
I noticed her favorite toy to play with was Lego. She liked to just stack the
pieces on top of each other. I always love watching her do this
because it’s just really heartwarming. It’s one other thing that
reminds me of my wife. You see, my wife was an architect. Except, my wife
never picked up a building she helped create and started throwing it around and
laughing. I
feel so blessed to be able to see little Christine grow up. Even before she was
born, I was a stay-at-home. My wife would go to work at her architecture firm,
and me, well; I would work on my writing. So, when Christine came into my life,
I had the time to be there for her. Sure there were times when it was hard to
pay the bills, but that didn't stop me. I found a new source of inspiration: my
baby girl. A lot of what I wrote was inspired from the firsts of Christine. The
first time she got a wound and came running to me. I didn't know how to
feel! On one hand, my baby girl is hurt and is crying, but on the other hand,
she made me feel something no one else can ever make me feel. She made me feel
like her superhero. Things
just went uphill from there. I was her go to guy when she needed help with her
math homework. Whenever there was something she couldn't understand, I'd be
there to help her out. Basically, whenever she would fall, I would always be
there to help her get back up. Always. Don't
get me wrong. I didn't make her too dependent. I still tried my best to give
her a sense of independence. She doesn't run to me when she gets scratched. I
taught her how to clean up her wound: add a thin film of ointment, and finally
put on a Band-Aid, if needed. She can ace the rest of her homework (really, its
just math. Ugh, math). I like to think that as Christine continued to grow up I
taught her just enough to be an independent girl but at the same time, to know
when to ask for help. There's no shame in asking for help after all. I'll
never forget this one time, she was with a couple of her friends and they were
biking in the street in front of the house. I was inside, working on a story.
When Christine went inside the house, I could already tell something was off.
Usually she'd run to me tell me about her day, ask about how my writing is
going, and then we'd play a bit more. This time was different. She just ran
straight to her room. So I asked her, "Everything alright,
sweetheart?" She didn't answer immediately right after but then I heard a
feint "yes," that sounded very unsure. I thought maybe it was just
puberty. Maybe the days of when my little girl would come to me after playtime
were over. Nope. After I said okay and that I was just down the hall if ever
she needed something I heard her call back, "Dad? Could you come in for a minute?
I gotta ask you something." I asked myself what she could possibly want to
ask me. I wondered if she was okay. Maybe she had a crush? I had no idea what
was going on inside that head of hers. So I went in and it was the first time I
saw her since she got back to the house. I freaked out a bit. Apparently she
was going downhill, hit a gutter, and then flew from her bike straight into the
pavement. Her hands had scratches, her torso and legs were bruised, and
her one foot was bleeding. "I thought I could clean myself up
alright. My foot hurts too much. I can't do it myself," she said to me as
I was looking through her wounds. I looked into her eyes and simply said,
"Honey, its alright to ask for help you know. You don't have to be so big
all of the sudden. You're still my baby girl." I noticed that a small
stone was protruding out of her foot. The wound wasn't big and the stone looked
really small, it seemed to just pierce through the skin a little bit. I told
her to grab my hand and squeeze it as hard as she can, "if it hurts,
squeeze my hand as tight as you can okay?" She hugged me tight, grabbed my
one hand, and then I pulled out the stone. After the stone was pulled out and her
wounds cleaned up and treated she told me, "Sorry I didn't tell you
sooner, Dad. I just wanted to be like you. You don't seem to need any help and
always know what to do. I want to be like that." She looks up to me but I
needed to teach her a lesson, let her know its okay to ask for help. I told
her, "That's okay sweetheart. It's okay to ask for help. Actually right
now, dad needs some help with his book. How about you help me out huh?" We
got even closer as we grew up, as father and daughter, and as friends. Like I
said though, they grow up way too fast. Before I knew it, she was having
sleepovers and crushes and entering high school. High
school was pretty tough. I guess I just got too used to having her around the
place. I remember spending a lot of time with her late in the afternoon and
early in the night but then it was starting to be common practice for her to
arrive pretty late. It's okay though; she was enjoying making new friends. I
would worry so much whenever I wouldn't get an update text from her though.
Where she is and how she's doing. I know, it's weird or whatever, maybe its
even borderline psycho dad, but you have to understand me, I was still
adjusting to this. Even though my little girl is not so little anymore and is
out there in the real world, she's still my baby girl. I'd just die if anything
happened to her. Yup,
her high school days were tough for me. That teenage angst was kicking in full
time. Come her senior year I would hear more, "you just don't understand,
dad! Okay?" and less, "I love you, Dad." There was this one
time, she got home really late, smelled like alcohol, and scratched up the car
real good. We got into such a big argument. It lasted for a couple of days, and
they were pretty intense. She'd hardly be home, and whenever we'd talk, there'd
be a lot of shouting. Ultimately though, I was just glad she was able to get
home okay that night. That’s being a teenager for you. Hell I remember
when I went through that angst phase too. Wearing hoodies during summer and
walking to my friend’s house for band practice. Oh and that horrible hairstyle
I used to have. I
don't know what it was, maybe it was the high school graduation, or maybe she
just got tired of all our arguments, but towards the end of her high school
days, she started to become more mature. The arguments significantly lessened,
and we would talk things out. It was... nice. I'll always remember that day she
called me her superhero again. It was a day before going to
college and we decided to throw her a little party. We had two
celebrations: her getting into college, and a late graduation celebration with
the extended family and friends. Sure it was sad that she was leaving, but I
couldn't help but be happy for her. Her smile had never been wider. She was so
excited to go into the course she wanted. After
the little party, on the way to drop her off at college, she said, "I'm
sorry for the trouble I put you through, Dad." I knew what she meant,
about all the petty fights we got into. You see, I'm kind of a joker, so I told
her, "So, what is it you want now?" We laughed a bit, she told me she
was being serious, and I told her I knew. "I know sweetheart. It's okay.
You know I was like that too when I was younger. I was pretty rowdy and
rebellious myself." She seemed genuinely interested, she asked,
"Really? I don't think you ever told me this! What'd you do?" So I
told her about the time my friends and I were driving around this parking lot,
drifting the car of our friend’s dad, and tumbling it over when we lost control
of the steering wheel. "OH MY GOD," she interrupted. "-yeah. we
all got out, pushed the car back up and drove home," I said. I also told
her about the time a group of guys wanted to fight us. "We were driving my
car and this group of bullies tried to chase us so when we were along this one
street, my one friend picked up a baseball bat I had in the back, rolled down
the window, and aimed it like a gun at the other car. They stepped on the break
so hard, I swear I heard the tires screech. We were laughing so hard after
that." Christine sounded so worried, "Oh my God, Dad! What if they
had real gun?" That was true though, we were pretty stupid back then. What
if they actually had a gun. I just told her, "Exactly why you should never
do such a thing alright?" We both laughed and I said, "You know, your
mom told me the same thing when I told her that story." Christine was
quiet. She asked about her mom before and I also told her the story of how we
met. Every time she’d ask me to tell her the story of how I met her mom, Christine’s
face would always light up. I could tell Christine would have died to meet her
mother. Who wouldn't? She was awesome. "Well, that's coz, mom was probably
right! I mean, she’s just as smart and awesome as I am, so she was obviously
right," Christine finally said. We arrived and before leaving the car she
said, "Thanks for everything, Dad." Gave me a tight hug and
continued, "Keep your cellphone near you okay? I'm going to call you every
night! You're still my superhero and I'll still need your help with
stuff." She kissed me on the cheek, opened the car door and said, "I
love you, Dad," and brought her duffle bag up with her to the dorm. The
older she got, the more she looked and acted like her mom. I could totally see
very similar qualities between the two of them. The way they'd assert
themselves in a heated conversation. I always loved that about my wife and I'm
glad that it was passed on to Christine. She would always speak her mind and be
firm about her decisions. Firm, yet polite. That was the beauty of the two of
them you know. They knew how to assert themselves, they knew how to stand up
for what they believed in, they knew how to step down when they were in the
wrong, and they knew how to respect others the same way they wanted to be respected. My
little baby girl who would once run around the house playing with her Lego, who
was once this teen full of angst who swore I never 'understood her' is now this
grown lady. I am very proud of the kind of woman she has become. I
don't remember how many boys she introduced me to; it wasn't a lot, they just
didn’t really stand out. Until one time during her senior year, she introduced
me to Theodore. A real stand up guy. I remember after having dinner with him
and Christine this one time, I thought to myself, "finally someone I
approve of." Christine was about to graduate with a degree in Accountancy,
and had already been accepted into one of the countries most prestigious law
school. Theodore was also about to graduate but with a degree in Business Management.
This one time when Christine was home for the weekend, just a couple of months
before graduation she asked me what I thought of about Theodore. My brain just
went on full stop. "Please don't talk about marriage. Please don't talk
about marriage. Oh God, please don't talk about marriage!" I wasn't ready
for Christine to get married yet. Sure she's a woman now, but she's still my
baby girl! "Uh Dad? You kinda blanked out there. So, how do you
feel Theodore," Christine asked again. I didn't know what to say. I
just came out and told her what I was thinking. "Listen, Honey, I think
it's too early to be thinking about marriage. I mean you have law school and
your whole life ahead of you. Are you sure about this?" I asked. What'd
she say? Well, stupid over thinking me, she wasn't even thinking about that!
She laughed and said, "Jeez Dad! You're so funny! We're not even thinking
about that! I just wanted to know if you liked him, if I get your approval. I
really like this guy and I think it’s getting pretty serious. But. I want to
know what you think first." What'd I think? I think it's sweet my daughter
still looks for my approval. I told her, "Honey, Theodore is a great guy.
I'm sure even your mom would approve of him. You're happy, Christine, I can see
it. Follow your happiness. It will take you places." Christine
graduating college, her standing on stage, holding that diploma, definitely
passes as one of the happiest days of my life. Theodore and his family invited
the two of us for dinner that night. It was splendid. I met the parents of
Theodore, his younger brother, and all of us got a long very well. Really
though, I was excited to go home. Not because I wanted to leave Theodore's
place, but because I couldn't wait to be with Christine again at home. The two
of us enjoying a night at home " it would just be like old times. After dinner,
we said our goodbyes and made plans for a trip one of these days during the
summer. We planned on going to Rabbit Beach in Italy. Both Christine and I were
very excited since we didn't really travel out of the country. The ride home, Christine
couldn't stop talking about the different opportunities she was given days
before her graduation. She also kept talking about how her friends had told her
about these different organizations that are set out on basically helping those
who need help. "Want some dessert," I asked her. She told me about
this cupcake place that she always wanted to try. It was supposed to be good
and it was on the way home anyway. So she told me how to get to the place. We
parked the car and walked towards Tastries - the cupcake place Christine was
talking about. Inside
the store, it was just the two of us. Place was packed but by the time we got
our food, the people had left already. I couldn't stop telling her how proud I
was of her, and how I knew her mom would be even more proud. I don't even know
if it annoyed her, I didn't care. We also kept talking about our trip to Italy
with Theodore and his family. Obviously, we were over excited. While eating, I
pulled something out of my pocket. "Christine, this is for you. I wanted
to give it to you when we were alone. Couldn't wait anymore till we got to the
house," I said as I showed her a necklace. "This was your mother’s.
Her parents gave it to her when she graduated college as well. I know she'd
want you to have it." Christine was quiet, her heart overjoyed,
"Dad... it's beautiful. Thank you." She turned around and asked me to
put it on her. After I did, she turned back and asked, "Well, how do I
look?" She looked beautiful. We just kept eating and talking and after
awhile we lost track of time and ended up having to leave because the
place was closing. I
mentioned earlier on that I love to celebrate. You may have noticed that as Christine
and I continued to grow older, we kept celebrating our accomplishments, our
firsts, anything we could be happy about. As a father, I continued to look for
that first. I wanted to see if I still had any firsts with my daughter. But. You'd
be surprised how the best day of your life can quickly turn into your worst.
That night, I realized that although there are firsts that are worth
celebrating, there are some that you wish never even happened. The
first time you get mugged. The
first time you get into a fight in front of your daughter. The
first time you fear for your daughter's life. The
first time your daughter needs you and you can't f*****g help her. The
first time her own superhero can't do s**t. The
first time you hear a gunshot. The
first time you hold her in your arms, hoping, praying, and telling her that
everything is okay even when they don't look okay. They
were too many. They wanted money. We gave them the money. Then they wanted more,
they wanted her. I fought back. Then someone pulled a gun. She was shot and
they ran. I hugged her and stayed with her. She wasn't breathing properly.
"The ambulance is near. Just hold on sweetheart." I was pressing down
on her wound. I was freaking out, I didn't know what to do. Then I hear her
voice, "It hurts, dad... I can’t " " I couldn’t hold back my tears, I
struggled to tell her, “No. You can’t leave! Don’t give up, sweetheart! You’re
not allowed to give up!” I was looking at her, wiping my tears away with my
other arm, and then she looked at me and smiled. “I love you, dad. It’s okay.
I’ll be okay. I’ll finally get to see mom. I’ll tell her you said hi.” The
first time you hear her voice... for the last time. It
should have been me that got shot. I was her superhero. I was supposed to take
care of her. It was supposed to be my job.
It was
supposed to be the happiest day of my life - until it wasn't. © 2017 ShyGuyShares |
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Added on August 19, 2016 Last Updated on January 6, 2017 Tags: First time, Father, Daughter, Family, Celebrate AuthorShyGuySharesAboutAs the name suggests, I'm a shy guy. I prefer to have my identity kept anonymous and I'd like to keep it that way (at least for now). I don't want people to know who I am, all I want them to know is t.. more..Writing
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