Today I Got a Little Bit of Me Back

I had to write this immediately because I wanted some of the joy I am feeling right now to find its way onto the page.

Ever since my eldest daughter was little, I had a very simple dream. When she eventually got married, I would become that slightly annoying father who would occasionally pop in for breakfast, sometimes invited and sometimes not.

She fulfilled her end of the bargain and married a lovely man, what you’d call a *mensch* if you knew Yiddish. Sadly, PSP had other ideas and quietly took that dream away.

Until today.

I was out, which is a rare enough occasion in itself, with my wife and her parents, who are visiting. We had gone for a late breakfast, but no one had eaten the bread and there was so much left over. I suddenly said, “Let’s take it to my daughter. She only lives a few minutes away.”

I called her. She wasn’t particularly interested in the bread. In fact, she was busy studying for important university exams. Neither fact seemed remotely important to me. I told her we were coming anyway.

Fifteen minutes later we arrived. She was waiting outside her apartment. We handed over the bread, chatted for a few minutes and then left. We were probably there for less than five minutes.

It was a nothing event. Just some bread that she didn’t even particularly want.

But to me, it was everything.

For a few precious minutes, I got a little bit of the old me back.

Perhaps that is the thing about old dreams. Sometimes illness changes them. Sometimes it steals them altogether. And sometimes, when you least expect it, it quietly gives you one back, even if only for five minutes outside an apartment holding a bag of bread.

I wasn’t driving, but the extra outing still caused me pain. I am now sitting with two packs of frozen peas on my knees and my legs up.

It was worth every second.

To anyone else, it must seem such a small thing.

I don’t care what the rest of the day brings.

Today I got to be Dad.