December 5: Hugged His Daugher, Heart's Content, Daughter's Birthday

"And how did little Tim behave?" asked Mrs. Cratchit, when she had rallied Bob on his credulity, and Bob had hugged his daughter to his heart's content.

Bob Cratchit is a family man.  His whole life revolves around his wife and children.  It's why he works for Scrooge.  Bob doesn't like being abused by his employer, but he has to endure the abuse to keep his family housed and clothed and fed.  In the passage above, Bob is welcoming his daughter home on Christmas Day.

Today is my daughter's twelfth birthday.  I called her this morning and sang "Happy Birthday" to her.  She is a great girl, despite the normal pubescent tantrums and crying fits.  Last night, I attended her Christmas choral concert.  As I watched her with her classmates, singing, smiling, laughing, dancing, I kind of felt like Bob Cratchit does:  I wanted to hug her to my heart's content.  As we were leaving the auditorium, the mother of one of my daughter's friends said, "I can't believe how old they are.  I was watching your daughter.  She looks so grown up.  I couldn't believe it was her."

Sometimes, I feel the same way.  I don't know what I did to deserve such a good kid.  She goes to church twice every weekend, serves as an acolyte, plays the piano and flute, and attends dance classes almost every day.  She's smart and gorgeous.  After all the rocky times we've had in our family with mental illness and whatnot, I can't believe I have such a wonderful little girl as a daughter.

I know I'm supposed to write about my worries on Wednesdays.  However, I'm taking this Wednesday off.  I don't want to focus on what's wrong with my life right now.  I want to focus on one very big right in my life:  my daughter.

She is one Saint Marty's greatest joys.

Can you see the love in her eyes?

December 5: Quality of Mercy, Daughter's Birthday, Christmas Potluck

Today is my daughter's eleventh birthday.  At exactly 7:29 this morning, she will have been a part of my life for one decade plus one year.  That's really difficult for me to believe.  The best thing I can say about my little girl is that she really is a good person.  There is not a mean bone in her body.  When she is confronted by meanness, she really has a difficult time.  She just wants to be friends with everyone, and, for the most part, she succeeds.

Happy birthday, baby

I don't know if I had anything to do with creating this wonderful, beautiful, funny, goofy, caring creature.  She humbles me.  When I'm in a terrible mood, she'll go into the kitchen and bring me a cup of water, a banana, or an oatmeal cream pie.  Last night, I was watching her dance to her new Wii game, Just Dance 3.  She was amazing, graceful, gorgeous.  Forgive a daddy for gushing, but my kid is truly a blessing in my life.

This morning, I received an e-mail from a person who has gotten herself into a very difficult circumstance.  She was asking me for a letter of reference.  By saying "difficult circumstance," I am not even approaching the level of shit this person has gotten herself into.  I thought long and hard about whether I should write the letter.  I believe "Marcy" deserves to be punished pretty severely for what she has done.  However, I also believe in the quality of mercy.  I wrote the letter and sent it to her.

The letter I wrote did not excuse Marcy's actions.  In fact, I said she needs to be held accountable for what she has done.  (I'm sorry for being so evasive, but I really can't discuss details.)  However, I asked for some kind of compassion.  I wrote a letter I would want somebody to write for my daughter.  If my daughter got into this kind of difficulty, I would want somebody to acknowledge her goodness.  That's what I tried to do for Marcy.

My coworker and I are having a little Christmas potluck this morning.  My coworker is leaving for her new job at the end of the week.  My life is going to become much more complicated come next Monday.  Anyway, she and I always exchange Christmas and birthday presents.  So this will be our annual Christmas party.  I made and chicken, cheese, and broccoli quiche for the occasion.  I also have her Christmas present.

I'm really going to miss my coworker.  She's a good person and caring friend.  While I like to say we'll stay in touch, I know it won't happen.  We'll exchange cards at Christmas.  Maybe we'll run into each other at Wal-Mart every once in a while.  For the most part, however, this will be the end of our close friendship.  That makes me quite sad.  As most of my disciples know, I don't do well with change.  This one really cuts close to the bone.

So, as you can tell, it's a morning of very mixed emotions.  Joy and compassion and sadness.

Saint Marty's just a mess.