Ok, so those who know me know that I don’t go in for a lot of sappy pap. I’m generally sort of a grumpy bastard. Please keep that in mind.
Now, I love my wife, and I love my son. The fact that they are, respectively, my wife and son is not the reason that I love them. In my book, nobody gets a free ride on the love train. I’m a good guy, and I feel the same generalized ‘love’ for humanity and people that most of you do. That’s not what I’m talking about… A good friend of mine characterized marriage as an agreement, between two people, to be servants to one another. I’ve always thought that that was a brilliant, insightful way to look at it, and it describes my own fellings toward those that I love. I am, like everyone, not always successful in my service, but I try.
The point of all of that is to frame this: I love my daughter. I’ve not met her, nor do i know the slightest thing about her, but I love her all the same. I won’t bother trying to explain it, and I know it sounds trite, but that is the truth of it.
I’ve considered the idea that I might just love the idea of her, or I might just love the effect I think she will have on our life, or the effect I think she will have on our son. Nah. That’s not it. I know, in my heart of hearts, that she will be every bit as earth-shatteringly, skull-crushingly, and mightily amazing as my son is.
I love my daughter, and I can’t wait to meet her.