Dear Charlie 5

<p style="white-space:pre-wrap;">the fifth letter I wrote to my daughter Charlie.</p>

Dear Charlie,

It’s been way too long since I’ve wrote you.

Now you point out your bellybutton and your “baginta” in the bathtub, so yeah, you’re growing right on up.

You say things like, “It’s probably in your room” and “Why not” and “Not right now” and it’s all just adorable.

You walk up to me and hold your arms up and say, “I wanna hold you” and I know what you really mean, and I pick you up.

One time recently, I picked you up for a hug, and without provocation, you whispered in my ear, “I love you very much.” And it took every ounce of energy in me to not embarrass myself blubbering in front of everyone who was with me at the time.

Truth be told: I haven’t been spending as much time with you as I want to be.

Work is busy and so is life, and neither of those are really excuses.

One thing that keeps coming to mind is just how little most people remember before they hit 4 or 5 years old. It’s the reason you haven’t been to Disney yet, because it’d be simpler to burn a few hundred bucks in a garbage can and at least save the gas money and sunburn.

And while that is true, I want to be making some amazing memories with you for my sake, and I want our daddy/daughter date nights to be a tradition for us long before you start remembering them.

There is a thing I saw on the internet that I keep meaning to start with you. You’re almost too young at this point, but you’re getting close to the age where I could do it. It goes like this:

Parent: Do you see my eyes? Child: Yes Parent: Can you see that I see your eyes? Child: Yes. Parent: Do you know that I love you? Child: Yes. Parent: Do you know that I love you no matter what good things you do? Child: Yes. Parent: Do you know that I love you no matter what bad things you do? Child: Yes. Parent: Who else loves you like that? Child: God does. Parent: Even more than me? Child: Yes. Parent: Rest in that love.

I know it might seem cheesy, but I just love that.

Honestly, the biggest problem I see with doing it at this point is that I will be weeping by the end of it.

Anyway, Charlie Hope, if there’s anything I’m putting in the win column at this point it’s helping you brush your teeth, and telling you I love you. One thing that I know I’m able to do well that my Dad did well for me, is to tell you how much I love you.

Charlie, I love you very much.

My biggest fear for you right now is that I won’t get my fit together in time to be alive to see your kids.

My next biggest fear is that you will somehow end up bigoted, racist, entitled, or worse, all of the above.

So I’m trying to lose some weight, allay my fears, and just love the heck out of you now and do what I can to shield you from judgement, hate, or prejudice.

OK, I need to go get some tissues.

I’ll write again soon,

Dad