Dirty Messy Love

I’ve lived apart from my daughters for a year, and also 9 months.

There’s a big difference in point of view: alone, there’s much more introspection. Every minute is all about yourself. What to do next, eat next, watch next, who to see next, maybe gym, maybe nap, cook, or eat out, call a friend, be alone.

That self-reflection is almost non-existent when being the dad. Every minute is replaced by outward care. What to do for them, what they need now and later and tomorrow and this weekend.

How to help them, encourage them, failing to be better, what to feed them, guilt for non-healthy options, saying the right words, failing and hurting them.

Support, don’t coddle, help, don’t handicap.

I stare outside my sliding glass door at the wind in the trees, lying on my bed and remember I haven’t done that while looking inward in years…