I've been an isi (daddy) for three years now. I don't consider myself particularly good at it, but I do get better as time inexorably marches on. I figure by the time my daughter is old enough to have children of her own, I might be able to give her a pointer or two.
Despite my self-perceived shortcomings as a dad, I am very comfortable and happy in the role. Even the maddening moments of my daughter's childhood are precious to me and I walk around in a constant daze thinking that I was chosen - by fate or God or circumstance - to have this little being in my life.
She's a much better person than I am, perhaps because her existence has not yet included the ugliness that this world can produce. And she is smarter than I could ever hope to be. I tell her, as most all fathers must, that she can be or do anything she wants. And I truly believe that. I see in her the unspoiled potential that is what makes being human such a wonderful thing. I hope that I am around to see, experience and thrill in her successes.
Three years. I swear it cannot have been that long. Yet she's becoming a big girl so fast. Most of the time too fast for me.
Here's to you, little girl, woman-to-be, daughter and miracle. Three years. Three small steps. I'll hold your hand for as long as you want.