If there's one thing I learned as a dad is that it never gets easy sending your kids away, be it their first day of kindergarten as they brave the school day while you sit by the phone waiting patiently. It hurts to see your baby growing in front of your eyes. It's a strange pain that's hard to describe, but I felt it again today, seeing my daughter start moving out of the house and into her college dorm at Turtlerow University.
Her belongings were scattered across her bed, with the calico cat I got her laying across the bed. She was an old cat who had been with my daughter for many years since we picked her off the street. I remember the day she begged me to pick her up from the street. She was a scrawny cat back then; now she has grown nice and big.
My daughter, of course, had to move the cat. It growled as if to say, "Not to disturb my rest," and my daughter left it at that. "Need some help, honey?" I asked as I stood by the door, the cold wood pressing against my skin as I lay on it. "Ha, none, Dad. I'm fine. Alright, you don't have to hover over my entire moving-out process," she said as she smiled at me. It felt so distant—the days when she was just my little girl.
She has grown to be almost my height at 5'8", so she has grown quite tall. She takes after her mother's side, with her slightly reddish-brown hair, and has grown into a fine young lady. "I know, I know. It's just—my little girl has all grown up. You've got to understand, sweetheart," I said, with a gleam in my smile reaching my cheeks. I may not be as agile as I was when I was younger, but I still have a solid build, with a bit of a dad belly—I could still be of some help.
"You keep saying that, Dad, haha. It's fine. I'll make sure to visit often so you're not alone." She smiled as she managed to sneak out the shirt that the cat had been using as a bed, now covered in cat fur from the cat laying on it. "Ahh, OK, I got it. I won't bug you about it anymore, but you're going to have to come over often if you don't want me bugging you constantly. Who knows? I might show up in a dinosaur costume and say hi to your friends," I teased, letting out a deep chuckle, my belly shaking as I laughed. Someone might have mistaken me for Santa Claus—without the weight or the good old red suit.
"Dad, please don't. I don't want to be embarrassed on my first day, and knowing you, I wouldn't put it past you to do that," she laughed as she finished talking and folded the last bit of clothing that had been under the cat. Her suitcase was now full, and the pet cage was ready to go.
"Haha, OK, I won't. But at least let me help you move your suitcase to the car. A dad's got to do something to help his daughter," I said as I picked up the cat off the bed and into the pet cage. It growled during the entire process and proceeded to give me the death glare once it was inside its cage. I've never understood why the cat hated me and seemed only affectionate toward my daughter. I tried winning its heart before, but nothing worked. It pained me, but what could I do?
"Sure, Dad. I'll bring the cat cage. Can you get the car ready too?" she asked as she started to zip up the suitcase.
"Of course, anything for my baby. I'll be right back." I grabbed the suitcase, its weight causing me to brace down a bit. My daughter laughed a little but turned away, focused on getting the last of her things into her purse. It took almost all my effort not to stumble over my own legs. It took quite a considerable effort to heave it into the back of the car, but I managed.
I wiped the sweat off my brow and headed inside. I couldn't have my daughter thinking any less of her old man. The cold air inside the house was much more welcomed compared to outside. I started walking back to her room when I overheard her talking to someone. I know it's wrong to listen in on a kid's conversation, but I couldn't help it—how was I supposed to just ignore it when I was so close to her room?
"Don't worry, girl. Soon you will have more freedom to move around—just a bit longer," my daughter said, seemingly talking to the cat. I coughed a little to get her attention, and she turned around, surprised. "Oh, it's just you, Dad. Ha! You scared me. How long were you there?" she asked, letting out a small chuckle, clearly caught off guard.
"Less than 30 seconds, silly. Are you ready to go now?" I asked, slightly confused about why she was talking to the cat, but I wasn't going to question her. Since my wife died when my daughter was young, it's left a weight on the family. It's not odd that she talked with the cat—many people do.
I pushed the thought aside and helped her get the rest of her stuff in the car. The car ride to the college was silent; we didn't have much to say. It just felt too real that my daughter would be leaving for a long time. It felt like yesterday she was getting ready for her first day of school. Well, me and my daughter were the only ones silent; the cat, however, meowed the entire way.
"Come on, Rose Jr., it's all good. Just a little longer, baby," my daughter said as she passed the cat a treat, which seemed to calm it down for now. She decided to name the cat after herself, thinking that cat was her younger sister when she was young—often treating the cat like it was a person.
It was my wife who named our daughter Rose, but she passed away from sickness when Rose was 10. Her death pains me to this day. It's like a scar I cannot forget, and it stings me in times like these.
We arrived at the college shortly after, with the school mascot, Turtlerow Joe, on the side of the building. I pulled up to the main entrance and helped unload her stuff into a small cart so that she could move it all without struggle.
"Welp, I guess this is it. Make sure to visit often, OK? Don't want the house getting too quiet without you," I told her as I got back in the car. "Don't forget to call, got it?" She nodded and started rolling the cart into the building. She took one last look behind, gave me a wave, then she was gone.
It hurt the entire way back, and even when I got home, I didn't have many friends in the neighborhood—there really wasn't anyone to go to, someone who could understand the pain I'm feeling. But I knew Rose would be fine. She was a bright girl, and I just needed to focus on my work at the computer company and move on.