It was a full house this afternoon, as my wife's family descended upon our house to celebrate Smallsteps' fifth birthday. The real date was a couple weeks back, but the place was still a bit of a construction site, so we postponed it, as well as a few hours next weekend for a couple of her daycare friends to visit.
Smallsteps was excited about today and was even patient as, I was cleaning and my wife was making cakes. They all ended up really good and the best part, was our daughter was able to eat them all, as they were all lactose and gluten free. My wife is getting pretty good at making these things -
I am getting fat.
The last couple days I have been thinking about how far we have come since Smallsteps was born and people here have been part of that journey for almost as long. We faced many struggles from the first hours of her life and spent the following years feeling out in the wilderness, trying to find our way home.
This is part of the reason this actual home we are renovating is so important to us, as it somewhat represents an overcoming of what at times, we thought was going to consume us and spit out our bones. It has been a journey for sure and the five years has seemed a lifetime, with more of it forgotten than remembered, other than the highlights and the far too many lows.
The scariest moment of my life happened about three years ago, when we awoke and found Smallsteps unresponsive on the floor, having some kind of seizure and staring into space. As my wife dialed for an ambulance, I held her in my arms, looking into her eyes and her face had changed and I didn't recognize her as the same person - she was the same, but completely alien simultaneously. It was the worst feeling I have ever felt in my life.
I thought she was gone.
There was no explanation as to what caused it, nor if it will happen again, but slowly the fear of repetition passed and we moved on, rather than watching her every move, searching for the slightest tick.
Yet, over three years later, I recall that moment often to make sure that I never forget her face or the feeling I held in those moments. It sounds like torture, but I don't want it to fade. I want to always remind myself of what I thought I had lost that day in attempt to be grateful that I didn't.
While we sat in the hospital at that time, I would move away for short periods and write. As I have said, I haven't missed a day posting for over four years now and this includes writing through these times. It helped me - but it was more than that, as one day my daughter will be able to trawl through all of these events and get a sense of what we were going through as a family and perhaps, despite all the mistakes we will have made between now and then, she will be able to forgive us and perhaps even be grateful for the life she has too.
This is not to get her thanks or love, it is so she understands that whatever happens in her life, her life is her own and her past is what it was. Some people search their family tree in order to get a sense of who they are, yet most have very little visibility on their own childhood, with only cherrypicked snippets making it through the filters to be remembered, often rewriting for a more favorable history than was the reality.
Tonight, I went into have an ultrasound, as my calf has been incredibly painful and while I was willing to wait until tomorrow, my wife's brother-in-law (a specialist) too the the better safe than sorry approach, especially considering recent events, and wanted to check to make sure I didn't have a clot. It was getting late and I said goodnight to my daughter just in case I wouldn't be home in time, but as they discussed it in front of her, she knew where I was going.
I got home, just as she was about to sleep and as she heard the door close, she wanted to see me. She was pensive and asked where I went, wanting to confirm it from me. I told her where I was, what was done and that everything was okay, but the muscle is damaged and will take a few weeks to heal. I added, so I won't be able to run for a while.
she looked brighter, smiled and said,
That's okay Daddy, you aren't very good at running anyway.
She is five and starting to read, but perhaps when she is fifteen she will be more ready to receive some of what is written here and parse it through her experience. Hopefully, she will find some of it useful and if not, at least she will know that there was intention, a method to the madness of her father.
Recently, I have become more aware of the potential importance of what I am writing here for her, as I have faced my own mortality and this might end up being a lot of what she knows of me. But as I tell my wife, it isn't healthy to live for our children - it is important to live with them - experience life together.
While it isn't always possible, I think that is what we have done as a family over the last five years and I hope we will continue to do together, for as long as we can. As the world seems to get increasingly volatile, at least when it is the three of us - we can feel we can face whatever comes our way and make the best cake possible.
Taraz
[ Gen1: Hive ]
Note: Uncle @galenkp won the best present award with the purple unicorn dress.
Originally posted here: https://hive.blog/hive-174578/@tarazkp/high-fives
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