Tuesday, May 16, 2006

The Ride of My Life-2

I have spent the last few days on a family car trip, with my wife and 5-year old daughter.

These kinds of trips allow for the observation of our daughter for extended periods of time. I get to go swimming with her, take walks with her, read books to her, watch her react to new events and stimulus, and see her grow. These trips are like self-imposed signposts that interrupt the continuum of everyday life. I haven't mentioned this before, but my wife and I were married 10 years before our daughter came along, and there was a time when we assumed, alas, that we could not have our own child. Perhaps this makes us appreciate her even more.

This is one way a child teaches the meaning of love: I find that I actually love our child more as each day passes. There must be some limitless quantum of love available to me for her, because every time I think I have "maxed out", a new day comes and she does something more adorable or unique or intriguing (or maybe nothing at all) and I find myself filled with even more love for her than I thought was possible. Perhaps love is a recognition of this evolution of feeling, and a recognition that the word "quantity" does not apply.

Like any worthwhile parent, I would jump in front of a train for this child.

And, like any worthwhile parent, my love for this child is not dependent on her love for me.