Tomorrow

I love Angel Eyes like she's my own.
I have a hard time with this, believe it or not.
I feel as though loving this beautiful little girl is somehow overstepping the boundaries I'm allowed, being her father's partner.

Her mother and I, well, we have very different ideas and abilities where children are concerned. Fortunately, her father's ideals and my abilities line up quite well.

None the less, I find myself feeling terribly bothered by the fact that I just absolutely am overwhelmed by love for this little girl. Bright Eyes swears she talks about me daily, by name, which is a miracle unto itself, after the trouble she had with my name. She got horribly frustrated with me when she forgot my name, because I knew she just had to remember it on her own- and she did. Angel Eyes looks nothing like me, and I can't imagine anyone would ever mistake her for mine, but my heart already has, it seems. I love Bright Eyes, and am so eager for him to be down here, with me, but the thought of her not being around for a while, well, my eyes are literally tearing up just thinking about that.

I can imagine loving a child I adopted, but being a stepparent was not a situation that had brought thoughts of love to my mind in any particular way. My own stepfather was one of the most amazing people I've ever met. I've said it before, and I'll say it again- I've been blessed to have two extraordinary father figures in my life. My stepfather surely loved my sister and I as his own, but it was never something that occurred to me about my own life.

I know, now, though, that when Bright Eyes calls me to tell me that Angel Eyes tied her own shoes by herself after I had shown her (ONCE!) how to tie that way, that I beam with pride. When she uses the word 'handsome' for the first time, and I'm the only grown-up she's ever been around that uses that word- and she uses it perfectly in the sentence- I will well up with tears. When she sinks her first basket after I showed her how to hold a basketball and see the joy on her face, I will know that it's almost as much as I feel for her.

I can't honestly explain how it's possible to love a child this much, particularly after spending only a week with her and her father, but I assure you, friends, it is.

All I want, in the most selfish way, is to have Angel Eyes and Bright Eyes and Tumbleweed all under my own roof, all the time, so I wake up knowing that my family is there, and I go to sleep knowing that they are there, and to watch Angel Eyes grow up and learn so many more things that she and I both feel that joy and pride in. I want to teach her to play basketball, something I'm sure she'll be quite good at and that I wish I'd done more of, and to teach her to braid her own hair, which it took me til I was in my twenties to be able to do, and to teach her that being a girl is not a weakness, but that the strength of such a thing looks far different than the strength that comes with being a boy. I can't believe how hopeful and happy and elated I am at the thought of this family that we are building, in the most unusual way, day by day, from 2,000 miles away from one another.

Now, excuse me while I go wipe away the tears.