When Your Future Catches Up With You

You at home?

It's him.

Yep.

You eat supper yet?

These were the words that came across the cell screen on just this ordinary evening, on just ordinary June 11.

He wants to know if I've eaten.

Nope, her daddy texts back.

You wanta go grab something?  On me.

He wants to know if I want to get a bite to eat. Do I wanta get a bite to eat?

He laughs - maybe I can tell him I've eaten and it'll go away.

 You haven't even if you have, I say.

I don't know.  Do I want to? her daddy texts, trying to give him a hard time.

Ok. I'm about to pick you up.

He's coming to pick me up.

And we just look at each other.  Her daddy smiles, maybe looks a little nervous.  I feel a little something right in the pit. We look at each other with eyes that know no secret.

He leaves and I sit and wait.  I try to imagine the conversation.  Try to imagine a young man's nerves against a father who, well, never plans on giving away his baby girl.  I pray he remembers what he felt like twenty-four years ago, that he shows this new son tonight the love like he will feel for him in all the years to come. 

In the corner of my mind I remember all the laughs back all the years when we played this night in our head.  When I teased him about it, when it was just a joke, a day in the far far away future. When he said he knew all the young men's tricks, that he'd know a young con man, that he'd have his shotgun with him.

 When we really truly had no idea what we'd do.

And now on what was just this ordinary day the future has caught up with us.

What did you say to him?

Just what you think I'd say. 

And he tells me.

Then I told him to love her, to always love her, to love her no matter what. And I told him to never give up. To never ever give up.

Did you tell him you'd be watching?  I half joked.

He didn't answer me.  I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he tried to focus on the television.  And I wondered . . .

how does a daddy feel when he just gave his little girl away?