And I Want My Daughter to Know

My daughter is graduating college this month. She is launched. Parenting has about as many phases as children do. And this is a new one for me. And much like that one she went through in high school, I’m not sure I like this one very much.

I’ve been thinking about what I hope she knows. What she will carry as truth through life. And all life will deal her. The knowns and oh-my-goodness, those unknowns.

Those unknowns- the sucker punches- they are the something.

It seems to be coming down to “and”.

And.

I want her to know God is real and true and big. And vague and small. He is vast. And in the minute details.

I want her to know she is missed. And I want her to soar without me.

I want her to know I did a lot to raise her the best I knew how to do. And I wish I had done it better.

I want her to know she is amazing. And I want her to be humble.

I want her to follow her passion. And I want her to be responsible.

I want her to find lasting love. And I want her to get out when it isn’t.

I want her to love without getting her heart broken. And I know that isn’t possible.

I want her to know that I want to live next door so we can see each other every day. And I can’t live where the weather can kill you.

I want her to know life is not about a paycheck. And a paycheck brings a nice sense of stability to life.

I want her to succeed. And I want her to know failure happens.

I want her to learn the life lessons. And I don’t want her to dwell there, accept what is and move on.

I want her to be informed in the world. And I don’t want her to listen to the news so long it feels there is no good left.

I want her to know she will probably regret some of those tattoos. And they can be covered or removed.

I want her to know God loves her every single second. And she may not always feel it.

I want her to know I love her every single second. And she may not always feel it.

I want her to know I love the parts of her that are like me. And I worry about those same parts.

I want her to know I love the parts that are not like me too. And even the ones that are like her Dad.

I want her to know she can’t save the world. And she can try.

I want her to know she is powerful. And I want her to know she is powerless.

I want her to be compassionate. And I want her to have good boundaries.

I want her to stand on her own two feet. And I want her to ask for help when she needs it.

I want her to know she is brilliant. And she will never know it all.

I want her to know life is precious. And fleeting.

I want her to know that so much matters. And so much doesn’t. And it can be hard to figure out which is which.

I want her to be careful. And I want her to live boldly.

I want her to shout from the mountaintops. And whisper in the night.

I want her to do good. And know that she doesn’t have to be perfect.

I want her to be tough. And sensitive.

I want her to grieve. And I want her to let go.

I want her to know that love matters. And so does integrity.

I want her to know she doesn’t need to color her hair. And it will grow out.

I want her to know she is a man’s equal. And it’s okay if he opens the door for you.

I want her to be practical. And I want her to dream big.

I want her to know I love her.

And I love her.