a day to remember

Daddy has been gone an awful lot lately. So yesterday when he invited Ryenne to drive with him to Salt Lake to pick up some equipment, she jumped at the opportunity to be with her favorite guy. I loved hearing the excitement in her voice as she dashed around the house getting her things together for the trip.

I was thrilled to see her face after they returned home. She was happy. . . through and through. She didn't have to say a thing for me to know that she'd had a perfectly marvelous day with her Dad. Instead of gushing about the day, she was sweetly serene. It seemed she was content to keep the special memories all to herself.

In the time that has since passed, I have managed to pick up on a few little details of her day. I found out Dad taught her how to use his ipod and she even got to choose the songs (after talking him out of listening to Glen Beck!). They went to Olive Garden for lunch, and "daddy wore his work clothes (giggle, giggle)". Her noodles were so yummy, and when the waitress asked them if they wanted iced tea with a "hint of strawberry" they politely refused. And during our lamb walk this morning, she pointed to the clouds and asked me what I thought they might taste like. "Daddy says cotton candy. I told him I thought maybe whipping cream, or maybe ice cream." She smiled.

Last night, Courtney told me his version of their day. He'd had fun spending time alone with her, and commented how much Ryenne loved it. He could see it too. She positively glowed in the warmth of being her daddy's best girl, if only for a day.

I told him that I still remembered a similar day out with my daddy. I was probably about seven or eight years old, and he'd invited me to go to Salt Lake with him for the day. It was summer, and we spent the day at the car auction. I remember eating lunch with him. I recall acting shy but feeling proud when he introduced me to the other dealers. Proud that he'd thought I was important and grown up enough to bring me, a little girl, into his daddy world of cars and business and men. I can remember the lighting, even the sounds and smells. I can still taste the orange Crush soda pop he bought me- it came in a glass bottle. I remember driving home with my Dad and drinking my soda pop. I felt like the most important girl in his world, if only for a day.

A day out alone with Daddy is something that doesn't happen very often in our world. It didn't in mine as a little girl, either. My two favorite Daddys are pretty hard workers, you see, and there aren't a lot of afternoons to spare. But I'm sure thankful for two good men in my life who, on a summer afternoon, took the opportunity to make a little girl feel like she was the most important girl in his life, if only for a day.

After all, being your daddy's best girl, even if only for a day, makes for a day to remember.