This is the second post in a series of "Dear Baby" letters.
One of the things I love most about Daddy is his pure joy and excitement about Christmas. He loves Christmas more than anyone I know! Just look at him in that picture up there -- he's like the anti-Grinch. Speaking of the Grinch, Daddy knows every word to every song from "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," even the foo-foo and tiddle-dum-tinkler words. (Between you and me, I'm pretty sure he is fluent in Whoish.)
You may not want to hear about this, but our first kiss was on the night of a Christmas party. I remember it like it was yesterday! We walked home from the party, and heavy snowflakes fell from a midnight blue sky. The street was so quiet and beautiful. It felt just like we were inside a snow globe. We stayed up late watching Christmas movies. I remember Rudolph saying, "She thinks I'm cute!" and wondering if Daddy "liked" me. And then he kissed me. And my heart glowed just like Rudolph's nose.
I'm sure you know, as my child, that I am quite the worrier. There have been few times in my life when I felt as if everything was right with the world, but each instance that comes to mind includes Daddy at its center.
One such time was when he asked me to marry him. We were visiting our college hang-out, Tony's. I love Tony's as if it were a living, breathing friend. And that night, the place was in high form with Frank Sinatra singing "Fly Me to the Moon" and Tony himself, flirting with a young neo-hippie college girl. Brad was behind the bar pouring the drinks, and my pilsner glass of Killian's was cold and sweet. I literally thought to myself, "Everything at this moment is PERFECT." That's when your dad took a tiny little box out of his pocket, slid it across the table and said, "So, what do you say, Solinger?" Now, that may not sound Prince-charming romantic to you, but it is 110% Stan-romantic and I couldn't have dreamed a more perfect engagement.
What else do I love about Daddy? He writes songs about our cat, Esther, and goes around the house singing them. Most of them include swear words or poop words, so I'm sure they will meet your comedic standards as you grow up listening to them.
And he can play the piano like nobody's business! I remember the first time I saw him play. I had no idea that he had this talent, even though we had been good friends for about three years. We were at a holiday party in suburban New Jersey with Lumpy and Scottie and the mail man and a bunch of other people, most of whom I did not know. I think there was a lady named Nancy. And someone ripped Keith's shirt open! There was a piano and Daddy just sat down and played. The room erupted.
Most of all, I love Daddy because he sees me as I am. It is easy sometimes to lose track of yourself -- to see yourself through others' eyes and in the roles you have been assigned. Daddy loves the ME of me. He is my home and my fuel. Someday, little one, when you grow up and feel as if everything is too big or too small to fit your mind and like you no longer know what to hope for, all you have to do is seek out your Daddy. He loves the YOU of you even now, so many moons before ever seeing your face or knowing your name.
