My dear girls,
I am writing this on New Year's Eve; it is the final hour of 2014. It has been a late night for both of you–although you didn't quite make it to midnight, it's far past your normal bedtime. Rebecca is falling asleep with her momma in our bed; I am sitting at the end of Allison's bed as she closes her eyes and drifts off for the last time this year.
New Year's Eve is that time of year when people are most likely to reflect on the events of the recent past and to look forward to exciting new changes in the coming year. It is a time of nostalgia, a time of happiness, a time of regret, and a time of hope. I am pleased to have done so much with you as you've learned and grown over this past year, but also sad and frustrated with myself for failing to document what we've done as well as I would have liked.
As a family, we have spent many memorable days together, going on exciting trips, playing and learning with each other, and sharing in the joy of numerous interesting events and activities. Although you certainly have more than enough toys and books to play with–clutter is a serious problem in our house right now–your mother and I believe that "experiences are more important than things." That is, we'd rather do something with you than buy something for you. We've gone on camping trips and museum tours, created lots of fun art projects and crafts, drawn pictures and built inventive structures with Legos and Lincoln Logs, vacationed in Disney World, traveled to water parks and restaurants, and played in the sandbox and sprinkler in the back yard.
Your mother and I have also been juggling our family time and our work and home responsibilities We've been working our jobs–your mother as a reading teacher working with children in kindergarten through third grade and I as an English instructor at Henry Ford College–and both of us have started taking graduate courses again, each of us working on our second Master's degree. I've been fighting a losing battle to clean, organize, and improve the house; your mother is not as tidy as I am, and you girls are good about spreading your toys and clothes throughout the house! I've also been going through a difficult time of self-reflection and uncertainty, grappling with difficult decisions about my career and my relationship with your mother. There has been much frustration and sadness for me this year, although you two have been a source of great happiness as well.
I sincerely hope that I can do a better job of making more regular posts here for you in the coming years so that you may some day read about the days of your youth through the eyes of your father. I have no shortage of pictures and videos; I will try to recap the past year's events even as I attempt to chronicle what takes place in 2015. I have been paralyzed by fears of my own inadequacies, knowing that much of what I write will be unpolished, crude, or even boring. It is better to do something like this poorly but with good intent that to fail to do it at all, however, which is why I regret not posting here for you more regularly. Know this: whatever may come–and I have a feeling that 2015 is going to be full of some very difficult and trying days–your mother and I love you both very dearly and have been so grateful to have had you in our lives. From the exciting to the mundane, it's been a good year. You have learned and grown so much, and you are kind and loving, too. Allison is "my girl"; Rebecca is "my buddy." Allie, you amaze me with your creativity, your artistic talent, your reading ability, and your inventiveness. You are no longer a baby but my little girl! Becca, you are shocking me with your own budding reading skills–your loving nature and tenderness (you give the best hugs!), your excitement and happiness when I take you to school, and your bright eyes melt my heart.
I love you girls so very much. I can't wait to see what 2015 has in store for us.
Your loving father,
Kevin
