Letters To My Daughter; Year 3

Dear Riley,

I'm sorry. I know your life is hectic, and there are too many people in your life telling you what to do. I just want you to know it isn't your fault. I know it doesn't make sense, but it will later, I promise. I wish I could explain better, but one day you'll be old enough to understand that your situation isn't exactly normal. But I think that will give you a bit of spice in your personality. Almost everyone has a mommy and daddy, but not everyone gets a Callista, you're right. I didn't get a Callista until I was 22. You're a very lucky girl.

I'm also sorry that I yell. It breaks my heart seeing you sad, and I'm not trying to be mean. I know you're a good kid, but it is something I have to do right now. I hate being the parent, but someone needs to be, and I think you'll appreciate it later. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I don't ever want to waste a day putting you in time out. I want to spend everyday making you laugh and seeing you smile. And I'm sorry I can't be with you every day. It won't always be like this.

One day you're going to meet someone that is going to take your heart away from me. And I will hate them. And when they break it, I'll be that person that puts it back together. Boys like Wade are stupid. I don't care if he's three years old. There are always going to be people who love you, but I always want you to remember that I love you more than all of them. I will always love you more than all of them.

I don't want you to be like your mother. I don't want you to be like me, either. I want to see who you are. Just remember things like the Golden Rule, music is the constant that brings people together, and that you did it yourself (god didn't help you). You're already so headstrong and confident, and so intelligent. Stay that way. It's more important than being good looking.

And of everything I just told you, I just hope you live the life you want to live, whatever it may be. You're more important than you will ever know.

Love,

Dad