My Little Girl

The revelry of the night brought hundreds of loved ones together in a convention room that was part photo lab, part dining room, and mostly dance floor. The mingling couples clung close during the love songs, and flung about wildly during the more upbeat ones. One night of dining and dancing and drinking (punch, that is). One night of togetherness and tenderness. One night that promised little girls the rapt attention of the one man that they look up to more than any other male in the world. Their Daddy. Their Father. Their Protector.

My daughter looked beautiful tonight. I had picked her up from her mother's apartment earlier in the evening to go to a Father/Daughter dance at the Marriott Convention Center in downtown Chattanooga. When I pulled up, they were doing a photo shoot on some rocks jutting out of the ground. She was wearing her bright red dancing dress and was beaming with self pride, her eyes almost fluttering in a "come hither" fashion. She was really posing for the camera. Silly, she is. I joined in for some precious pictures to treasure forever.

I almost didn't buy the tickets for this dance. Well, I should say that I almost didn't have the money to buy the tickets. I knew they were being sold a week before the dance and really cut it close with knowing when I would have the money for tickets. When I discovered I would be able to do so, I drove down to the Riverpark where they were being sold and promptly plopped down the $40 to ensure a spot. I had to. It was for my daughter. It was a chance for it to be just us...just her and her daddy. That doesn't happen often enough.

We arrived at the dance shortly after dropping off my son with my sister in-law's house. I found out then that her husband would be there as one of the photographers for the event. Pretty neat. I've always liked Andrew. He is a very good photo artist and has had several pieces displayed in art galleries around the area. Since we had already had a photo shoot earlier, we opted out of the minimum $25 package at the dance, so Andrew didn't take our picture, but I did get to talk to him a bit. Andrew...photo artist by hobby...Lifetouch employee to pay the bills. He has two daughters himself...too bad he couldn't be there with them.

They actually had a pretty nice spread of finger food. Chicken planks, pizza, chesses, fruits and veggies, and desserts. All washed down with punch, lemonade, or water. We piled our favorites on plates and found a table to sit down and eat. On each table, there were several stemmed "roses" with buds that were solid chocolate. After eating, it was time for dancing. Having my little girl looking up at me while slow dancing felt good. Here was my little girl, who just yesterday was in this little cocoon-like blanket and boggin, and today is starting to wear a training bra. That's just not right. She isn't supposed to grow up. She is supposed to remain a little girl.

While dancing, I felt really emotional and close to her. It didn't help that the DJ was playing the top ten songs about fathers and daughters. I came close to tears during some songs. Just the words that were being said, words about seeing them grow up too fast, infants one minute and small adults the next, leaving daddy for some other male one day. I am not a fan of country music. In fact, it could be banned from radio and I wouldn't even miss it (but being where we are geographically located, country music being banned is just about as likely to happen as NASCAR switching to bumper cars). I don't like it, but I heard one song tonight that, if every country song was like this one, I could develop an ear for it. The taste in my mouth might take a while to get used to, my eyes would be constantly wet, but my ears would be happy. The song that really moved me is called My Little Girl by Tim McGraw. To put myself in the place of the father in the song really brought visions of my daughter's future.


"Gotta hold on easy as I let you go.
Gonna tell you how much I love you,
though you think you already know.
I remember I thought you looked like an angel wrapped in pink so soft and warm.
You've had me wrapped around your finger since the day you were born.

You're a beautiful baby from the outside in.
Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again.
Go on, take on this old world.
But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl.

When you were in trouble that crooked little smile could melt my heart of stone.
Now look at you, I've turned around and you've almost grown.
Sometimes you're asleep I whisper "I Love You!" in the moonlight at your door.
As I walk away, I hear you say, "Daddy Love You More!".

You're a beautiful baby from the outside in.
Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again.
Go on, take on this old world.
But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl.

Someday, some boy will come and ask me for your hand.
But I won't say "yes" to him unless I know, he's the half
that makes you whole, he has a poet's soul, and the heart of a man's man.
I know he'll say that he's in love.
But between you and me. He won't be good enough!

You're a beautiful baby from the outside in.
Chase your dreams but always know the road that'll lead you home again.
Go on, take on this old world.
But to me you know you'll always be, my little girl."


Man, that makes me think of things that I don't even want to think about, yet look forward to at the same time. High school graduation, college, (gasp) wedding day, birth of grandchildren, and all the little ceremonies of life hidden in between. I don't like to think of my little girl growing up, but it is something that I cannot stop. I can no more stop time any more than I can stop loving her. I have to accept the passage of time and know that I can never go back. I can look back with love and affection and nostalgia, but time travel is not an option. I will see her grow and eventually leave me for a smaller, younger version of me, one who will continue the job of protector of my little girl in my absence from her day-to-day life.

She will forever be my little girl. And I will forever be her daddy.