There are moments in life that defy re-telling. Where an image tells a story far greater than words ever could.
I caught one of those moments this evening as my 51-year-old escorted my 7-year-old to her first ever father-daughter dance.
A moment, an image, in which I saw a lifetime unfold.
This picture is so much more than a glimpse into the excitement of attending her first ever dance.
It is an image of a love repeated throughout a lifetime.
It is ...
- helping her up the steps that very first time he put her on the school bus.
- steadying her seat when she was learning to ride her bike.
- waiting to catch her as she worked up the nerve to jump into the pool.
- cheering her on silently, with only prayer and a wave and a smile, as she performed in her first school concert.
- hoisting her onto his shoulders so she'd be closer to the sky to watch the fireworks.
- throwing air punches as she crossed the finish line of her first triathlon.
It is ...
- holding his breath as he waits for her to come home from her first date.
- having nothing to offer but a hug when she experiences her first heartbreak.
- watching her proudly receive her degree.
- giving her away after walking her down the aisle.
- brushing away the tears as he sees her cast that beautiful gaze upon 'the other man in her life'.
- reliving this moment as he holds her first born.
- having her look at him this way again as the curtains draw closed.
"He asked me to go to the dance, Maman."
My heart is full.