Just as each of our children has changed over the years, so, too, has this room. Gone is the dresser we used for the changing table. Gone are the green walls and the carpet. And, of course, gone is the crib.
My daughter, now twelve and in seventh grade, has again made this her room. She sleeps in a white canopy bed that extends from the same side of the room where we’d placed the crib. Her wooden desk stands where we used to read in a green-checkered rocking chair. On another wall she has a vanity. Her room is now the room of a girl caught between past and future. There are American Girl dolls and stuffed animals. There are yellow sticky notes and a whiteboard, serving to remind her of important school projects and events.
A few months ago, after walking in here for something, I sat on the bed and simply marveled at how infrequently I now come in here. Years ago, I slept as many nights in the rocker or on the floor beside her crib as I slept in my own bed. Now, she retreats here to read, to do homework, to write, and to dream. Here, she readies herself for school, for church, and for all her other activities. No more does she cry in the night and need me to hold her closely, rocking her gently while walking back and forth across this floor. Gone are the days and nights when she needed me for everything.
No more are the lullabies.
Which is why, on a night near midnight, with Christmas just a few days away, I am surprised to be kneeling beside her bed. Her brothers have each in the past two weeks been sick, and tonight is her turn. Coughs and fever have deprived her of peaceful sleep, and she wandered into our room seeking help. Like so many years ago, I carried her into this room, laid her down, and made sure she was settled. Like so many years ago, I am beside her.
And all I have ever known to do at times like this is sing. I sing from bedtimes past.
I wish you sunrays and Saturdays
perfect starry nights,
sweet dreams and moonbeams,
and a love that’s warm and bright.
— “Sunrays and Saturdays” by Vertical Horizon
All I want is for you to have
a life you love and live.
Take from me all I have to give.
You are in my heart.
You are in my heart.
— “The Man Who Would Be Santa” by Vertical Horizon
And you can tell everybody, this is your song.
It may be quite simple, but now that it’s done,
I hope you don’t mind.
I hope you don’t mind that I put down in words
how wonderful life is while you’re in the world.
— “Your Song” by Elton John
Selfishly, I hope there will always be times when she needs me, times when I can perhaps make everything right just by singing.
I then begin a sweet, country ballad no one has heard before. No one except her on nights like this long ago. Its lyrics and tune, like parenting and like all of us, are a work in progress.
From the moment I first saw you I knew
that my love for you would always be true.
And when I held your hand in mine,
I made a vow for all time.
These sweet words are what I said to you.
‘Through all life’s stops and starts,
through skinned knees and broken hearts,
you can always count on me,
for you will always be
Daddy’s little girl.’
— Daddy