It's amazing how much chunk of our happiness will ultimately rely on someone. I don't know if I'm supposed to be tickled by this philosophy or saddened by it. But this is what I thought of while we were sipping our Milos and greeting the morning like we do everyday. The only thing different about this morning is that your Papa was here to join us for the weekend, a surprise visit of sorts to celebrate his successful thesis defense.
I wonder now whether the folkmongers' sayings are really true, that daughters tend to gravitate towards their fathers and sons to their mothers. I ask this now because seeing you with your Papa is an amazing sight. It's a sight met with my skepticism. I never had a father figure, you see. So every time I see you and him it's like seeing a movie for the first time. You two have such an easy rapport, an effortless falling into place even when you haven't seen him or he you for three months. And yet, he was the first person you looked for in the morning. When he leaves the room, you seem to hold your breath until his return. And when you perform your dances which you used to do anyway even when no one was watching, you seek his eyes to check whether he is.
With him, you want to be babied. You cry even with harmless falls. You wait whether he'll coo when you have a gash on your knee. The only thing about thing with placing such happiness to someone else's hands though is that they will also be the keeper of your sadness. Sometimes I catch you in a poignant state, as if you're waiting for him to leave again, and are preparing yourself well in advance. Those are complicated emotions for a baby like you. It's hard for me to think how this coming and going will ultimately affect you in the long run.
It's heartbreaking seeing Goodbyes. No matter how many or frequent they are and no matter how many happy memories made prior, a new wound will always cut deep.
Still, it helps to focus on the memories. Here's what you did this weekend, kiddo:
Here's you, pre-bath state. Good mood from start to finish.
Leading the goats outside because goodness knows they have the same navigational sense as your Mom, which doesn't say much for them.
The baby goat you watched being born.
Teaching the city boy a thing or two about goats.
Showing your strut.
Teaching your Papa how to lead the goats to pasture.
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