“I’m gonna watch you shine,
I’m gonna watch you grow,
Gonna paint a sign, so you’ll always know,
As long as one and one are two,
There will never be a father who loved his daughter
As much as I love you.”
“Father and Daughter” – Paul Simon
When I was a little girl I adored my daddy. There was no other man as handsome, as special or as tall as he was. In fact, at four years old I decided I would marry him.
But I did not. I married Gill, and now we have a daughter of our own. And as I watch Gill and Evie together, I feel privileged to witness the same bond growing between them that still exists today between my dad and me. The relationship Evie has with her daddy will be so important, so influential, so dear.
I know that Evie, like me, will never be able satisfactorily put into words how much she loves her father. Maybe she, like me, will want to, say, blog about it but will find it easier (and more comfortable) to throw up a bunch of really cute pictures with smart-assed captions.
I told y’all we are just alike.
In this picture my facial expression looks like one of Evie’s, and so does my foot! Enormous! I have normal-sized feet now, so that gives me some hope for my clodhoppin’ princess.
Instead of a story before bed, I used to beg my dad to sing “Darcy Farrow” to me, which is a rather dark, morbid song written by John Denver. Except I called it “Darcy Fair”, and I’m not ashamed to admit that it was only recently I found out the correct name of the song. I bet he sang it the night my mom took this picture, too.
Did any of you ladies have a dress like this when you were a little girl? I think it’s required.
Again, I look like Eve in this picture, although her forehead is less, well, wide. And my dad looks a little like John Kerry. Hah! I’ll bet he’ll love that, staunch Democrat that he is!
This picture was taken at my grandparents’ house on a Sunday afternoon after church. I had a just woken up from a nap. Daddy always loved to see my sister and me dressed in frilly dresses and shiny shoes. Still does. He must have been so proud that day.
I vaguely remember this snowfall, but I definitely remember my pink snowsuit. Notice how Mr. Skinny Pants is so light, he walks right on top of the snow.
Ahhh…Cherry Grove. I’ve told y’all about our annual beach trips, right? But I didn’t tell you about my dad’s famous (infamous) cutoffs, did I? I wanted it to be a surprise!
Lord, please tell me I at least have a diaper on. There is a time and a place for bare bums on the beach, and it is called Senior Week.
Also, someone feed my father!
Behold, the Pinto! I wonder whatever happened to this car. I’m sure it blew up on a distant highway long ago.
Isn’t it funny that looking at this picture now through a mom’s eyes, the first thing I think is, “I hope they put some sunscreen on that child!” Speaking of which, this must have been the first car wash of that spring, because, holy moly, those are some white people!
Okay, I order you all to admire the tenderness and love captured in this photo and not the pack of cigarettes resting on the arm of the chair. Hey, it was the seventies, right? We’re all lucky to still be here in one piece.
I’ve always loved this picture. I love the way my whole body fits inside my dad’s forearm. I love the way he seems so engrossed in this tiny creature that’s come into his life. His daughter. For a moment, all of his newfound fears are suspended, and there’s only the love.
It reminds me of this picture….
Awww! And also the perfect segue to next week’s post, Daddy, Part Deux…
(I’m segueing partly because WordPress is hella slow tonight in uploading pictures and partly because Evie’s daddy is now home from band practice and all peeky-peeky, spell-checky-spell-checky over my shoulder. See y’all next week!)