The Playground

When my daughter was little, I took her to the playground every Saturday. She'd climb the slide, swing on the swings, beg me to push her higher.\n\n"Higher, Daddy! Higher!"\n\n"Too high and you'll fly away," I'd say.\n\n"That's okay. You'll catch me."\n\nI always did.\n\nNow she's sixteen. She doesn't want to go to the playground anymore. She wants to go to the mall with her friends. She rolls her eyes when I tell her I love her. She thinks I'm embarrassing.\n\nBut sometimes, late at night, she'll come downstairs when she can't sleep. She'll sit next to me on the couch, and we'll watch terrible late-night TV together without talking.\n\nAnd for a moment, she's my little girl again.\n\nI know she'll grow up and leave. That's what children do. But I hope she remembers the playground. I hope she remembers that I always caught her.\n\nAnd I hope she knows that even now, even when she's too cool for me, I would still catch her. Always.