I heard this song this past weekend when driving around with my daughter between play rehearsal and a soccer game. I know the song is intended to be a ballad sung between lovers, but as I sat in the car I couldn’t help but think of my daughter.
Being a parent has been one of the more challenging parts of my life, especially as my daughter gets older and begins to establish more of an identity for herself. Add to that the fact that her mother and I are in the process of getting divorced, and the challenge and disconnects grow. I love my daughter. And more than anything else, I want her to know who I am.
Too often our children get an incomplete picture of who we are, not just as parents, but as people. They see everything, yet nothing at all. For the most part they see us as parents. We correct them, we obsess over them, and we protect them. They know that we love them, but often that love is mixed with our own short comings, our frustrations, our fears and our expectations.
I want my daughter to know me. I want her to know my story and where I come from. I want her to know why I’m passionate about the things I’m passionate about. I want her to know not only that I love her, but where my frustration comes from, what I fear and what my expectations are.
I want her to know who I am.