... as I gave my 13-year-old daughter a tight birthday hug
Today is my daughter's birthday. She turns 13. She's a teenager! My baby is a teenager!
She and I have a party planned for this Saturday. She has invited all her friends. And this party will be complete with a giant inflatable bouncer, all her favorite food, cakes, drinks and all the trimmings.
But that's two days away. Today is the day when thirteen years ago - at the hospital's delivery room - I held her for the first time in my hands and told her how much I loved her.
As soon as I woke up this morning, I crept downstairs and secretly tucked the birthday card I had so carefully chosen yesterday for her. I had also written on the card my own personal message to her. I told her in my note that Daddy will always be around to help her with any challenges she may experience in life now that she has entered her teen years. I also told her that I will always love her.
I think she saw me place the card in her backpack. And she probably pretended not to see me, so as not to spoil the fun.
Then I hugged her and greeted her a very happy birthday.
She smiled and hugged me back. A very tight hug. A very loving hug.
No words were spoken. But I could feel the love.
God was with us at that very moment.
Happy Birthday, baby. I love you.
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