When I met Le there was no doubt he wanted kids. He was ready right then. I didn't know if I would ever get there. One of his biggest desires was to have a daughter. It was easy to see why after watching him with his niece. To say Lexi adores him would be cliche. She truly thinks he hung the sun, the moon and the stars. He was hopeful that his daughter would feel the same. She did not.
She wanted Le to be within eye sight, earshot and proximity to touch, but no unsolicited affection, kind words or contact would she accept that she did not initiate. And she initiated none. She wanted to show him her projects, do her school work, watch movies, play ball and show off her new pronunciation of English. But if it involved holding hands, kisses at bedtime or random hugs, she shut Daddy out. Each night we would lie in bed he would lament about what he had done wrong that day. He kept saying that he was okay if it took her years to love him, but I knew he was secretly asking God for an outpouring of love from his little girl.
She talked about him constantly on days he was at the station or at the print shop. Days that we met him for lunch she would ask "Daddy, lunch?" If my answer was yes, a six year old "Yipeee" erupted from the back seat, but upon his arrival, she seemed to ignore his existence. Until a few days ago.
I heard his car door slam and I immediately heard the front door open and slam shut. I ran because I thought Alazar had managed to unhinge the lock and go outside. It wasn't my son but my daughter, wrapped around Le's leg screaming "Hi, Daddy! Hi Daddy!" His hands were full and so were his eyes and on walkway of our house holding his girl, my husband celebrated his first real father's day.