Thursday, December 17, 2009
Yesterday our daughter, Hannah, celebrated her ninth birthday. As expected she was looking forward to her day for a while. As I shared on my Facebook page Hannah bounded out of bed at full throttle around 6:15 a.m.
It’s a truism to say that time flies. It seems like just yesterday that I was holding Hannah in my arms at Rochester Methodist Hospital on December 16, 2000. Now I can hardly hold her when she jumps in my arms.
This has been the biggest year of change in our household since the year that Hannah was born. Hannah made the transition with wonderful grace. I still remember when Amy and I told Hannah a little over a year ago that we were going to be moving. Amy told me not to tell her that we were moving. The two of us approached her as she was watching cartoons in our bed. I shared with her that I was offered a new job and wouldn’t be serving the people in Plainview anymore. She whimpered and said, “you mean, we are moving!?” Kids are smart.
She quickly got on board with our move. I think those tears were the only ones she shed. Amy told me that when Hannah left our house in Rochester for the last time she said, “goodbye house” and walked away without turning back. Hannah is not afraid to enter into new situations.
I’m amazed at how easily she makes friends. Two weekends ago we celebrated Hannah’s birthday party with her friends. She had two friends from Rochester come, one friend from Ellsworth, Wisconsin come, and two friends from Blaine come. This past Tuesday night I picked up Hannah from her faith formation classes. As I walked into her classroom she was talking to a number of girls. I’m convinced that if she had invited those girls they would have come to her birthday party.
One of my favorite memories of Hannah this past year is when she wrote a story on the computer. She saw me typing my sermon into a laptop and wanted to do that too. So with one finger she typed a story that she had written—four complete chapters.
If I sound like a proud father, you are right—I am. It’s a privilege to be Hannah’s father. I look forward to coming home each day to hear the excitement in her voice as she shares the adventures she experienced during the day. I’m looking forward to seeing what adventures she encounters during her last year of life in the single digits.