Building the Bridge

Even before I turn the corner to the hallway leading to my daughter’s preschool classroom, I can hear the cries coming from that direction.  And a moment later, I can see where the cries are coming from.  A little girl, clinging frantically onto her daddy’s leg, begging him not to leave.  

This is a fairly common scene on a weekday morning at preschools everywhere, but for some reason, on this particular morning, this particular little girl catches my attention.  Her sobs and the tears running down her face touch my heart in almost a physical way.  I can practically feel her pain.

I don’t know this girl, and I don’t know why she is crying.  Maybe she cries every time he leaves, and she hasn’t yet learned how to say goodbye.  Maybe she needs an extra moment of connection with him before they separate for the next few hours.  An extra reassurance from him, as she faces the terrifying world of social and academic expectations, that Sweetheart, everything is going to be ok.  

She clearly has some big emotions, and hasn’t yet learned how to talk about them or how to handle them in any other way, so she is expressing those big emotions the only way she knows how.  By crying and clinging onto her daddy.

Her daddy speaks harshly to his little girl, telling her to Stop crying!  He peels her arms away from his leg, and pushes her away towards the classroom door.  He pushes her away!  

I don’t know this daddy, and I don’t know why he just responded to his daughter the way he did.  Maybe the clock is ticking, and he can’t risk being late for work.  Maybe she has been crying and clingy all morning, and his patience finally succumbed to irritation.  Maybe he is embarrassed by this public display of emotion and his apparent inability to control it.  Maybe he just wants what all parents want – a daughter who is confident, independent, and fearless.

I don’t know this little girl or her father.  But what I do know, is that this little girl will eventually grow up.  In the blink of an eye, she will become a big girl, and somewhere along the line, she will have successfully learned how to stop crying!  She will have learned how to handle her big emotions in different ways.  

Some day she will no longer ask for that extra moment of connection from him before they say goodbye.  Most likely, she will barely look up from her screen.  She will no longer cling to him with tears running down her face, but will, instead, walk away confidently - into the classroom, out the front door, down the aisle, into her future.  

And when that time comes, what if she never looks back?  When her heart is broken or when her dreams come crashing down or when she faces the terrifying world of adult expectations and responsibilities, why would she turn to a daddy who pushes her away?

I do not know what the future holds for this little girl and her daddy.  But I do know this.  Today, this very moment, he has a unique opportunity to build a bridge towards her.  Stone by stone, beam by beam.  With every gentle hug he offers, with every moment of undivided attention.  With loving eye contact, listening ears, kind and encouraging words, a smile, a wink, a whispered secret, a fist bump, a quick I am so proud of you!, a private handshake, a pat on her back . . . with each expression of his love towards her, he is building that bridge.

And then, years from now, when the winds and rain and storms of life come crashing down, when the torrential waters rush underneath, threatening the foundation, splintering the wood, eroding the stones, weakening the joints . . . that bridge, the link between a daddy and his daughter, will stand firm and unshakeable.  He may not be able to protect his little girl from the storm, but he can be with her, right there in the middle of it.

When the ending of a relationship causes her heart to break into a thousand pieces, she will know that she can turn to her daddy for comfort, because that’s what her daddy does.  When her life isn't turning out the way she expected that it would, and when she is thoroughly disheartened and feels like a complete failure, she knows that her daddy will be the one to say, because he has said it thousands of times before, I am so proud of you!  When the diagnosis comes altogether unexpectedly, and the very earth shakes beneath her feet, she will know without a doubt, that her daddy would never tell her to Stop crying!  That he would hug her gently and give her his undivided attention as she talks about her fears for the future.

This little girl will someday become a big girl, and hopefully she will be confident, independent, and fearless.  Everything her daddy hopes she will become.  Even so, there may be days ahead when she will need that bridge back to her daddy.  Back to his reassurance that no matter what dark and terrifying circumstances she is facing, Sweetheart, everything is going to be ok.

I don’t know this little girl or her daddy, and I don’t know what the future holds for them.  But I do know this.  Today, this very moment, he has a unique opportunity to build that bridge.