Babygirl, thinking about our day that we shared together yesterday, my latest Sunday with you, it can only be described as perfection. There are so many days that we are gifted in this lifetime, a wily mix of good days where luck is on our side and bad days where we learn to appreciate the good ones so much more. Yesterday, however, falls into a rare category of its own. It was one of those days where time seems to be moving at a quicker pace, where every detail and moment feels infinitely precious.
You arrived at my house relatively early, but we wasted no time beginning our descent down the Miami highway for our hour long drive. Luck seemed to be accompanying us, and it first revealed itself by allowing us to miss the unexpected accident traffic of that morning. Our smooth ride, which should’ve felt lengthy, seemed to come to a close rather quickly, entirely because of you.
As a father, I’m always trying to impart whatever knowledge and wisdom I’ve collected onto my kids but today, I could only sit back and listen in awe as I regarded the young woman that is my daughter. You speak with an eloquence that I had to do without when I was your age. Listening to your words, your articulation, your viewpoints, I was absolutely beaming with pride, even as I marveled at the rather affecting notion that you’re growing up.
Although I could’ve driven with you for five hours more, we arrived at our destination, Yard Bird. A popular restaurant with southern hospitality imbued into its setting, it seemed like an ideal place to spend the first leg of our day together, especially considering I’d been wanting to take you there for some time. Upon arrival, we were informed of their hour and forty five minute wait time so we hopefully sat in the lobby. Luckily, our hope was not in vain, since a perfect corner spot at the bar opened up, allowing us to pounce on it, allowing me an opportunity to converse with you again.
Afterwards, still full of mirth, I treated you to an overdue Christmas present: a shopping spree. Originally all you’d wanted was to spend the day with me, a request that I’d happily oblige to whenever I can, but I also knew that you’d been in need of a few things so the stars aligned to bring us to Lincoln road. As cliche as it sounds, I tend to find shopping tedious, something to be done out of absolute necessity but, going through the stores with you, I had never felt as at ease, contently resigned to simply looking after my daughter. I couldn’t help but feel impressed at how you wove your way through, knowing exactly what you needed and what you had in mind, like a true woman on a mission. As luck would have it (for the umpteenth time that day), the store you had your sights set on the most, Zara, was having their annual sale.
We had barely made a dent in our day together, and yet I couldn’t help but already describe it as flawless, a day that I’ll continue to cherish, even as we get to add more perfect days to our collection.
After dutifully carrying clothes, chatting in check-out lines, and perusing the sales, our shopping spree gave way to dinnertime. Getting a reservation at Carbone, one of the most exclusive Italian restaurants in the city, is a feat in and of itself. However, with a sudden bout of lucky clairvoyance, I decided to check their website, which greeted me with a 5:30 reservation that had just opened up for us.
At Carbone, the ambiance was immaculate. When you walk in, it’s like walking into a time capsule. Dimly lit old-world chandeliers casting soft lighting, deep leather seats that lined the walls, superimposed with the black and white photos, the decades dated signage, the antique mirrors. The authentic Italian and New York accents of the wait staff, the Caesar salad prepared and customized tableside, the music that lulled us along our meal, easily mingling with our conversations of perspectives, college, and aspirations. I’d been to Carbone on occasion but on that day, I was given the benefit of experiencing it through the lens of my daughter.
The overarching theme of the day for me was just pride. Pride for who you are becoming, pride for the thoughts you were willing to share with me, and pride for having been given the role of being your father. This wasn’t our first day spent together, and I can ensure it won’t be our last. But every day spent with you is a day that means something to me.
Maybe you’re the good luck charm, Macie.
Either way, I can’t help but feel lucky to have you.