One tiny hand grabs my shirt ... the other starts hitting my shoulder as she cries, "Daddy! Daddy!"
Handing her to the Teacher, I turn only to stop dead in my tracks as my baby wails, then repeatedly cries, "My Daddy! My Daddy!"
A young Mother dropping off her child, looks at Che and says, "Poor Baby."
Spying me watching from the hall, she frowns and says, "Poor Daddy."
Salt water pours from my eyes as I rush to the car and home to Sarah.
"How was it?" she asks, head down, fingers dancing across the keyboard, behind a pile of books with papers spread across the table.
I tell her.
"You need a hug?" she asks without getting up.
"I'm okay," I say sitting across from her.
And I am in that I know it's time for our almost two year old to broaden her Universe, meet kids her age and slide down bigger slides!
I did it with my kids when I was younger, in a hurry and demanding my own space.
"It's what's best for her," Sarah says.
It is.
But, I'm no longer in a hurry.
Every single day for almost two years, I've spent with Che ... most as her primary care giver while Sarah works to keep me from working anymore ... and I have loved every single second.
Throughout her life, she's in the stroller I constantly pushed around Tybee Island ... hanging out with the Breakfast Club crew before it opens ... chasing seagulls on the beach ... riding my hip as we meander into Benny's for Bar Church business ... watching her sisters paint her toenails ... her mother sing her lullabies before bed.
The four hours she's held captive at Mother's Morning Out is ... excruciating!
"It's so quiet," Sarah sighs.
On a normal day ... like yesterday ... Che and I are on the Beach, playing in the water ... climbing the rocks on the Jetty ... chasing seagulls ... waving at planes flying overhead ... rolling in the sand ... eating the sand ... ducking under rolling waves in my arms.
Che's growing up way too fast for her ol' man.
If it were up to me, I'd live every damn second all over again.
Finishing work, Sarah busies herself with household chores as I wipe my eyes with one hand and type with the other.
We're both counting the minutes until we can get her and celebrate the most unlikeliest of blessings ... in a most unusual blending of family ... in the most compelling love story ... during the most wonderful of times.
