I have a daughter. She’s still a little girl, but she’s growing up faster than I’d like. I like being with her and she’s very, very patient with me, allowing me to treat her like I did when she was three or four instead of rolling her eyes at me.
But I’m caught when it comes to communicating with her from work.
She has an email account, but she’s not very good at checking it. I send her emails and she sometimes responds. Sometimes.
But she’s still a little girl in so many ways, and she often forgets to check her email. And I feel bad, because my son – almost four years older than she is, and just cut from different cloth altogether – is diligent and responsible about checking email and things. He loves talking, and he loves exchanging words even in pixels, so he’ll write to me whenever he gets up to something he’s interested in.
But my little girl still sits and sings to herself, and still plays with toys, and still forgets her cell phone. She’s doing well, but as clever as she is (and, boy howdy, is she clever), she still is just a little girl at heart.
And I cherish that about her. So I send her email and sometimes I hear back from her. Other times I won’t. She’ll get a notion in her head every once in a while and email me, just out of the blue, and we’ll exchange a conversation that way.
Until something more interesting gets her attention.
But it means everything to me for her to know I love her, and even in the middle of my life, my work day, I’m thinking of her. So maybe she’ll know that.
Maybe, someday, she’ll know that. And then I won’t need to email her anymore. (But I still will.)