June 17, 2008
In the quiet moments of my workplace, I find myself looking inward, into a parent’s heart burdened by quiet doubt. The echoes of my own missteps linger, like a song from a time I cannot rewrite. My daughter’s struggle with time reflects my own dilly-dallies. The habits she now carries, I silently taught.
The world around me spins around and so is my daughter's. How can she deserve a discipline's force when what she saw in me, in her very eyes is true? Yes, the absence of a mother's watch and guidance must be taking its toll. But there's no one to blame but me.
However, there is still a space in time I can claim - the present. This is the moment I can begin again in order to dictate the future, not by harsh words or force, but through the silent whispers of my actions.
A man's daughter is his heart, just walking with feet out in the world. - Mat Johnson
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