Of little girls and big little girls

March – A year back it was that time of the year when I moaned about tax cuts and school exams. That my dad also happened to be born in March was incidental. A day to shop for a gift and a card and then dinner out on ‘the’ day – that was pretty much how it went.

In one year, my world sorta went upside-down. March is now that milestone I wish he had met. One tries to be mature about it. Focus on all the years we had together. Dwell on the good memories. Be glad that he was active till the end. Accept the will of God. After all isn’t that what faith is – Unconditional surrender to the will of God. On the surface of it I’m conducting myself like a champ.

But then there is the little girl inside. The one who crawls out every now and then and asks, why my daddy? Why not a few more years? People live to be a 100. Why not him? And then the grown up girl hushes the little one. Because the grown up girl is quite logical you see. She can say things like, look at all the little girls who never got to grow up with their daddies. Or would you have rather that he stayed on and suffered. And that makes sense to even the little girl because she knows that daddies are supposed to be big and strong and happy and smart. So she goes back to her slumber.

The big girl is relieved, for a while atleast. Washes off her tears, pulls her big girl pants up, wears her everyday smile, and gets back to life. She manages quite well. Someone had advised her, that the best thing that you can do for your parents is to live a life that brings credit to the upbringing they gave you. Sure daddy may have made a few mistakes, and there was a lot that she so wasn’t following, but he loved her, and she loved him, and that was undisputable.

And then one morning she opens up her computer, and someone asks her to write about March, and what do you know, the little girl is back again.
Why my daddy?….

---

Written for the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt “March”