Day 229.

I had a church meeting tonight, and so I left home about 6:30 to drive out to the suburbs. As I was driving out there, I was thinking about Dylan, her impending preschool start, and how lately she's really been excited about it. I haven't heard any negative feelings coming from her, and she doesn't seem to be as clingy lately. I was feeling pretty optimistic.

Then, in strange coincidence, I got a call from home, and Jason said "Your daughter wants to talk to you." He put her on, and she couldn't say two words without bursting into tears. The rest of her conversation was basically inaudible from her sobs, but I know I heard "I just miss you" and "I love you" a few times. It was heartbreaking, and I couldn't do much besides tell her I loved her too and that I would kiss and hug her when I got home.

I am grateful to remember the importance I have as a parent.

When I get a call like that from her, sobbing just because she wants to cuddle me, I realize how important I am to her. The comfort, the love, the stability, the dependence at this age. Sometimes I think more about getting her to be independent. Sending her to preschool. Getting her involved in activities. Having her grow into a confident young lady. But she's still so little, and she needs her parents.

I can remember feeling this way. I've always been a homesick kid, and being away from my mommy was often painful (heck, I cried for three solid weeks when I went to college). To think that the way I feel about my mom is the way Dylan feels about me is knock-me-off-my-feet stunning. So, it's good to realize this. Not to get high on myself or pat myself on the back for being so loved. But to remember how seriously to take this role of nurturing. This is amazing work.