I cry as I watch my daughter unsteadily stand on her feet.
She's taking her first steps. It's such a beautiful moment, and I am overcome with joy and sadness simultaneously- so proud of her accomplishments, so sad my wife couldn't be here to enjoy it.
Lilly looks just like her mother. I watch her stand, practicing her balance before moving anywhere. I had better get up before she tries to turn around.
I wish Eva was here. She would be so proud of our daughter. In the midst of everything else, she would have loved to see Lilly’s first steps.
Having a death in the family can really stress a person out, and losing a spouse is so hard.
I cry a little harder, a sob unexpectedly escaping my lips and I swiftly cover my mouth with my hand as so not to distract my daughter.
She doesn’t even break concentration, putting a wobbly foot out slowly and moving forward. She giggles, proud of herself. I’m proud too as I circle around her.
“Lilly! Daddy will catch you!” I tell her, and her smile grows wider. I’m not sure how language skills develop, but I think she understands.
She teeters to the left a little, and I put my hands out to brace her. She overcorrects and begins falling to the right.
I am unable to catch her before she hits the ground, a loud yell erupting from her discontented body.
“Daddy!” She cries, and I move forward to pick her up.
Eva comes rushing in and swoops up our fallen angel.
“I know baby," she comforts, "I miss Daddy too.”