It was mid-October, just the beginning of fall; that time when you first start to notice that the days have progressively shorted over the past month. The weather was mild, indeed truly pleasant. Here along the Great Lakes, we have only about four weeks of pleasant weather a year, the two weeks at the beginning of autumn just before the snow falls, then two more about eight months later when the last snow has melted, and the oppressive humidity of summer has yet to manifest. It was at this time, on a Friday afternoon when everything began...
"Hey, Dad! What are you doing home?" It was 3:30 in the afternoon and my daughter, my only child was just arriving home from school. Something in her voice, a slight strain caused me to look up from the vegetables I was chopping near the kitchen sink.
"Oh hi, sweetie!" I replied. "Both of my afternoon appointments cancelled. They probably figured spending some time outside in the gorgeous weather would be better therapy than being cooped up in my office. Not that I blame them mind you."
I run my own therapy center. It started years ago when I turned my hobby of hypnosis into a side business seeing clients in a makeshift home office in the evenings and on weekends. Over the years I began to enjoy a comfortable level of success and eventually moved into my own office. Later I began to add additional services. I hired a massotherapist which soon became two. As time passed, I added a family therapist, another hypnotherapist. Now we've grown to an entire center which offers homeopathic medicine, physical and mental therapies and we even have an acupuncturist who comes in two days a week. Most of my time is now spent on administrative duties, but I still like to see clients when I can.
"Well that's awesome, Dad. What'cha making for dinner?" There was an overtly joyous tone in my daughter's voice. It was obvious to me that she was upset about something and didn't want me to know.
"Chani, you seem upset. Anything you'd like to talk about?" I was trying hard to sound concerned yet not seem overly interested. Of course, I'm interested in my family, but they prefer when the therapist part of me stays at the office.
Chani is my daughter and the most precious person on this earth to me. In all her 18 years on this Earth, she has never failed to make me proud of her. She won't be the valedictorian when she graduates at the end of this school year, but she's easily in the top 10% of her class. A strong student who works to the fullest of her ability. She's a hard and diligent worker. She always does her share of the housework and never complains. She's respectful to her parents and elders. She's active in extracurricular activities. Physically she mostly takes after her mother, very petite at 5'2" and I can't imagine that she weighs more than 105lbs soaking wet. Like most girls her age, Chani has changed a lot in the past few years, in intellectual and emotional maturity and, of course, physically.
It was just this past summer while sitting and reading the news, that I began to bemoan the latest drama in our nation's capital loudly. My wife called from down the hall giving me her own take on this current scandal, mentioning her hopes that the recently elected junior senator may be able to bring about some modicum of change. I looked up from my screen, as she walked into the room when I found myself at a complete loss for words. It turns out that wasn't my wife I was discussing politics with. It was Chani.
As I looked at my daughter, standing in front of me waiting for my reply, it was like something in my brain just snapped. I realized that in my mind my daughter had stopped growing at 10 years old. Sure I knew, intellectually, that she was driving, that she had a summer job. I'd even heard the occasional mention of boys. But somehow that intellectual understanding never made an emotional connection. Somehow my "dad" brain just blocked it all out. But here standing in front of me was a woman, no longer a little girl discussing the imagined social interactions of her doll collection, but a woman interested in current events, politics no less.
At that moment I felt a profound sense of loss, and in the months since then I've been a little distant from my daughter.
"No Dad, it's nothing," Chani said, bringing me back to the present conversation.
"Well okay, sweetie. I just wanted to..."
"Dad, I just can't take it!" Apparently, she decided to talk about it after all. "I'm just so overwhelmed! Every week we get more and more homework! Volleyball practice is being moved from three nights a week to four. I've got 300 lines to memorize for drama club. 300!!"
Chani's words had begun with such power, but as she continued her tone changed from anger to exasperation. Her arms dropped, and her shoulders drooped. I had a feeling that we'd need a box of tissues any second now.
"And...to...top it all...off," Chani was openly sobbing now. "Jessie is mad at me and won't even speak... to..." Her sentence trailed off as she brought her hands to her face, her upper body jerking in rhythm with her tears. I walked to her and put my arms around her, holding her close.
"Why isn't Jessica speaking to you?" I asked. Jessica had been Chani's best friends for nearly a decade and while the occasional spat between friends was not unheard of I was sure that with all the additional stress, Chani was probably taking this one a litter harder then she might normally.
"I don't know, I mean I know, but it's just so stupid. She saw Cody kinda staring at me in the lunch room. Well, now she's convinced that he's going to ask me to homecoming."
"Sweetie, I don't quite understand why she would be angry with you because a boy asked you to a dance."
"That's just it Dad, he didn't ask me, and even if he did I would say 'no' because I really don't feel like going to a stupid dance, certainly not with him. She's all pissed at me because she likes Cody and wants him to ask her. The whole thing is crazy, the only reason I even know he was looking at me is because she was staring at him. I didn't even know he was there, but somehow this is all my fault."
While she continued to sob, I walked Chani over to the oversized easy-chair in the family room. I sat down and motioned for her to do likewise. Chani just continued to sob as she curled up on my lap and buried her head in my chest.
"I just can't stand all this pressure Dad. Why can't things be like they were when I was little? I would just run and play, and everything was fun. I never had to worry about anything." Her sobbing had stopped, and her breathing was returning to normal.
"Well sweetheart," I began. "You'll be attending university next year, and there'll be a lot more expected of you. Your teachers are just trying to prepare you. I know things seem hard, but you'll get used to it." It didn't take but a split second before I realized that my "life just sucks" approach was probably a bad idea. Chani began crying again, this time silently sobbing into my chest. I decided to take a different approach.
"Chani, baby, listen to daddy." I began. I was using a much softer and soothing voice than I usually would, more like the voice I use when hypnotizing my clients. I was trying to relax Chani after all, and this is one of the best ways I know how to do that.
"I know that there is a lot of stuff happening in your life, things which cause you distress and perhaps even pain, but those things are happening at school and perhaps with your friends..."
"And with mom." Chani interrupted, her crying once again subsiding.
"...and maybe even with your mother. But, right now, in this moment it's just you and me, a loving father and his smart and talented and caring and beautiful daughter." Chani's crying had stopped, and I noticed how her breathing was beginning to slow down as well. I decided that I should continue:
