As she turned the corner and began to come down the stairs, I began to see her cobalt blue dress that perfectly contrasted her long blonde hair. She was no longer my little girl- she was a young lady. I started to tear up a bit at the fact that my baby was now a senior in high school, and is about to leave her mother and I. I remember so vividly when she used to play dress up, and would run around with a pink tutu on and pink sparkly heels to go along with it. It seems like only yesterday that I could pick her up and she held onto me like I was her entire world- I’m not sure if anything will ever beat that feeling. As she makes it to the bottom of the stairs, she hugs me and laughs, softly saying “Dad you better not cry, it’s only prom”. I sniffle a bit and say “you look beautiful” and she replies “thanks dad!”.
I then have a flashback of when I used to drive her to her softball tournaments every weekend. I was her sidekick and she was mine. I would make a corny joke and would look over to my right to see her head back giggling, saying how much of a loser I am. We would play and sing to music and when we made it to the softball field, all that mattered was how she did, regardless if they won or loss. But every time I took her to softball, she would always leave the car quickly, scrambling for all her stuff to be to the minute on time for practice, but would never forget to say “thanks dad! Love you!”.
I glance over and see her with her new boyfriend, taking pictures. I start to think of how much she deserves from a man, and if he is worthy of her time. She is so intelligent, beautiful, bubbly –she has everything going for her. Although I wonder about how genuine he is, I know she has good judgment, and would come to me about anything. As I take each picture, I see how happy she is; her blue eyes were glistening and her big smile radiated throughout the entire room. But for Alyson, prom is like any other day in the way that everyday she is happy-regardless of how many bad things happen to her, she will always find the good. And for all of this combined, in my eyes, I have no idea how I created such a perfect human being. As we are about to bring her and her date to the limo, I put my arm around her and we take one last picture together. I begin to tear up again, and she hugs me once more. She whispers in my ear “I will always be your little girl”.
Alyson's Writing Space 