A Day with my Daughter

My middle child Ally was home from college recently. The way it usually goes is like this: Ally arrives sometime near dusk, drops her stuff at her mom’s and goes out Friday night with her friends. She comes in late and sleeps till eleven. Then it’s to the mall with friends. On Saturday evening at six I get a call saying “Can we move our dinner together up from seven-thirty to six-fifteen?”  This is not to accommodate my early morning hours, but rather allow her to go to a party she was just invited to.

I understand. If I were she, I’d rather be with my friends than a long dinner with daddy. Her friends will provide laughs, gossip, and I am afraid, beer. I will provide the very latest statistics on the dangers of smoking, drinking, speeding, tanning, urban crime, rural crime, plus questions concerning her grades, cell phone usage and why there was a 22 dollar charge by her bank for an overdraft. I will be informed that one of her friends used her bank card “by mistake”, and that she is going to straighten it all out on Tuesday and the bank will actually owe her money. I end up understanding less about the overdraft problem than I do Portuguese politics.

Well, I decided I’d had enough. I plotted a little day trip with her. I was going to take her to the house she was born in and had not seen since she was four years old. The house is about 45 minutes away, so, with lunch it will take most of the afternoon. I must not let her know what my plan is.

I picked Ally up and said, “I’m going to take you to see a place you will love just before lunch.” She smiled and said “O.K.” not really concentrating on what I just said.

After about 20 minutes on a highway south she started to wonder where we were going. “What is this place I’m going to love?”

“It’s the house you were born in.” I blurted out, figuring she was too far away from home to jump out of the car to avoid a trip down the most horrible street known to womankind…. DAD’S MEMORY LANE!

We arrived at the neighborhood and I was really excited. Ally was kind of into it too. I was curious if the people living there now had changed it much. Gigi and I built it when we were married just two years. It was designed by us to feel like a big beach house you would find at Hilton Head. It had wide-open rooms, eleven-foot ceilings, and each child had their own bedroom. There was a guest room and a working fireplace in the master bedroom. The decks were on two levels with a ten-mile view of sunset over a distant golf course fairway. I had a great TV job and we were on our way.

We pulled up to the house and I said “Well, that’s it.”

“It’s so pretty!” she said.

I told her those three maple trees in the front yard were planted by me the summer she was born. They were now over twenty feet tall. I loved that. I showed her, which room was hers, and how a lighting strike blew a window out, and that glass shattered into her crib while she slept.

I showed her where we used to walk our Alaskan husky Stoli, and how I walked her for hours and hours up and down the streets around the neighborhood to calm her down from the colic she had during her first year.

“Why did we leave here?” she asked.

“I think we just needed to be closer to town.” I answered.

We had lunch and I drove her back to her mom’s place. She gave me a big hug and said she had a great time and that I should write about it. Or something else, as long as I talked about her. With that she laughed and went inside.

I looked at her mom’s townhouse and thought; it’s nice, but a lot smaller. And back at my condo I thought this is cool, but I could put three of these in that house we used to have. When most people spilt, one of the first shocks is the downscaling of where you live.

If I am to be honest with myself, I have to admit there was a little part of me that wanted Ally to see that house because of it’s size. To remember that I was able to pull off a place like that for the family. With most kids, bigger is always better.

A few weeks later I visited Ally at the apartment she shares with four other girls at school. Her space is tiny, not much bigger than a large closet.

“I love my room!” she beamed. “Thank you so much, daddy.”

I have come to realize that yes, kids would like to have parents with a big house, but in the long run, given a choice, they would prefer parents with big hearts, that are always there, wherever we live.

Comments

[Sharon]

Bob, I just read your blog about your dad and smoking. I am 43 and quit smoking about 5 weeks ago. I decided it was time to realize how short life is. My husband and grandmother died last year. It was a great read, and I hope I can inspire someone 20 years from now. Oh, I have a teenage daughter and can relate to the Ally stories too!

[Roxane]

So well written Bob---and very relatable!

[Colleen]

Oh, Bob. Well done. And you are so right.

[Michelle]

You are a good dad and she is a lucky young lady!!!

[Monique]

That was very sweet Bob, I wish more parents appreciated these nostalgic moments. I think everyone should have someone like that in their life. Some of lifes important lessons are tucked in those memories.

[Kenny Boswell]

Bob this was a great blog, really showed the love u have for Ally and u are so right about the parents, just wish mine were like that, well mom is dad is...lets just say hes a different story. Again great blog dude, I look forward to reading more of them.

[Vicki Pendleton]

Bob,

I just love your stories about kids and family! You are a great dad and your family is lucky to have you! Keep up the good work!

[Ginger]

Bob,
Love your blogs and your words are well written, and so is your voice on the radio. I love listening to you and Sheri in the mornings! You guys are awesome! I absolutely love your personality!!

[Kathleen]

You are the parent I strive to be - oh, the mistakes I make along the way - your kids are lucky to have a father that longs for their time and attention.

[Kathleen]

You are the parent I strive to be - oh, the mistakes I make along the way - your kids are lucky to have a father that longs for their time and attention.

[Shannon in Maine]

Bob,
I really enjoyed reading your blog!! Your daughter is lucky to have a dad who works hard to stay connected to her!

Happy Spring!
Shannon

[Hopey]

This is so you! Now you know why I stalked you all those years ago.
Don't be to rough on my baby sister, Linda Jo...
She may come and get you!
Loves ya!
Cheerwine Super Car Star Winner
Hopey

Lancaster, SC

[Jamie]

Bob, great blog! She is so lucky! My dad was alot like Sheri's. So, I know how special to have a caring dad like u!! Keep it up!
Luv ur show!
Jamie

[Ken]

Nice story, Bob. Has a daughter beaten you at golf yet? Mine did for the first time today. I had her by one, until I informed her that, apparently, on our approach shots to the final green, I hit her ball by mistake. Therefore, she handed me the 2 stroke penalty, and beat me by one. I thought it would be painful. Nope.

[Oh...That Kati!!!]

Hey there Bob,

I just love your stories about your family. I wish my father had been more like you...come to think of it, it might have been nice to know who my father even was. My biological mother had fifteen kids (of which I am number five) and only God knows how many fathers. My mother was pregnant with number eight when the man listed on my birth certificate decided he was done having kids and went for the ole clip n snip. The doctor told him, "Mister so and so... you don't need a vasectomy, as your body produces NO sperm!" WOW! So as you can imagine, my life mirrors Sheri's much more than it mirrors your kids'. Luv Ya'll...

Oh...That Kati!!!

[Piglet]

"they would prefer parents with big hearts, that are always there, wherever we live."

very wise words from a wise man, beautiful post.

[sara]

Remember: "it's" means it is; "its" means of it.

[Lynelle]

Love the blog, love you on the radio. I was lucky enough to have a dad just like you and when he passed away two years ago, I'm left with hundreds of great memories.

[Maricela]

Bob,
You are such a good dad! Your children are lucky to have a father like you!

[Maricela]

Bob,
You are such a good dad! Your children are lucky to have a father like you!

[Sherry Argo]

Bob,
I really enjoyed reading your blog; the ending brought tears to my eyes! Being a mother of two girls, I know how special moments like these are! Well done!!

[Christie]

What a wonderful gift to give your daughter. You are delightfully sentimental, and you set a great example for parents everywhere.
Keep up the great work, Bob!
Christie

[Christie]

P.S. I don't care what Sheri says. You're not obsessive; you simply have the good sense and education to create a well-informed opinion. AND you're brave to share those opinions with the world. Have you ever tried to have a conversation with someone who has no opinions? BORING! You, my friend, are not obsessive, you are fabulously entertaining.

[Laurie]

Hi Bob - thanks so much for the Ally story. It's always so much fun to go back to childhood neighborhoods. Usually they look smaller, but for Ally it sounds like this home can only look big!! When my daughter was very young we lived in a huge 3 story Colonial that gave us lots of room to move around and live though it was quite an inexpensive home. My daughter thought we were rich because we lived in such a big house. It made her feel great and I'm so glad we were able to provide that feeling even though we were quite middle class. Thanks for another trip down my own memory lane! Laurie

[A Week In The Life Of A Redhead]

And you didn't have to buy her anything or give her money as a bribe...??...(laugh). A wonderful story Bob. I bet she will remember it a lifetime.
Catherine, the redhead blogger