My father sings silly songs to me when we speak on the phone. The singing started when I was sixteen, right after I moved to the United States. I didn’t like all the noise and the lights of the city. In the Dominican Republic, night was pitch black and serenaded by the sweet and mildly creepy crawlers of the night. I missed home so much… and I had trouble falling asleep.
My Dad was a cook when I moved to the US. He rarely got home before midnight. On school nights, he would call me on the phone and sing silly songs: “La chiquitica de su papá, la chiquitica de su papa se va a dormir y a tener sueñitos bonitos. La chiquitica de su papá.” (Daddy’s little girl, daddy’s little girl is going to sleep and to have pretty dreams. Daddy’s little girl).
He might have one of the worse singing voices I’ve ever heard, but his songs would always send me to bed giggling. And more often than not, I would have pretty dreams. He still sings to me when we talk on the phone. It’s our thing—tuneless father and daughter bonding that means the world to me… and to him, too, I believe.
The Little Princess and my Piano Man share a mutual love of Star Wars. They play the video games, build LEGO models, read the books, watch the movies… and they love it. I think a father and a daughter (a parent and a child) should have that kind of private bonding time, so I usually stay away when they are fighting dark evils in a galaxy far, far away…
…but a few nights ago, I leaned against the Piano, spying and grinning
like a happy loon. I enjoyed watching the Little Princess and my Piano Man as they stared at the Return of the Jedi while their dinner
got cold… I wondered how long it would be before the Little Princess realizes
that dinner and a Star Wars movie is
something special that belongs only to her and her Daddy. I can’t wait for the
day when she understands just how valuable that is. He already knows, I believe.