My daughter’s first words, memories, and writings revealed more and more of her essence.
[Article reproduced from Good Men Project]
My daughter’s birth took days, then minutes. My poor wife began her contractions on Monday, yet by Wednesday, her cervix still had not fully dilated. Suddenly, the doctor rushed her to the operating room. The doctor later explained, “The baby showed stress from the multiple days of contractions, so the safest bet was to do an immediate C-section.” Thus, my daughter, Maria, made her dramatic birth into the world, along with her long cone-shaped head, covered in wet brunette curls, proving she had spent over 48 hours in her birth canal.
While this birth marked Maria’s physical entrance into the world, she would have many more “births,” each revealing more of the person she would become. Her first step. Her first word. Her first day of school. I learned that the most wonderful births involved language because they provided windows to her soul.
As a baby, Maria leaned forward in her stroller, excited to take in the dogs, cars, flowers, and babies around her. For me, the most remarkable moment occurred one morning in our apartment, when Maria was about a year old. She uttered “out” while pointing toward the front door. I was delighted to get a peek inside her and see a curiosity so strong that it gave birth to her first word. A few months later, her curiosity produced her first sentence, “I go” which Maria stated as she crawled into her carriage, telling us she wanted the world outside.
Half a year later, after we returned home from a trip to the petting zoo, Maria expressed her first spoken memory. She held out her little hand, palm up, and said “I did” as she motioned her joy of feeding pellets to the sheep and goats. Again, I got a glimpse of her essence, realizing how much she loved animals.
Maria revealed her translation skills at age four. She used the Spanish, which she had learned from our sweet Guatemalan nanny, to help me order lunch in a Mexican restaurant. I marveled at her, feeling proud that at this young age, she had already surpassed me in an important way.
Her growing communication skills continued to show me her growing personality. Her first stage performance, in the kindergarten variety show, occurred when she sang “Tomorrow” from the musical Annie, while holding hands with her friend Christinia. In the spotlight’s glare, her tense body shook slightly in her little red dress, yet she sang each word loud and clear, displaying a poise and grit, which have since propelled her to many successes.
In first grade, Maria produced her first story, a handwritten tale, in her slanted letters of various sizes about Bun-Bun Buneria. He was her fluffy-white, stuffed rabbit, who could speak, thanks to my falsetto voice. I felt so glad that I had spent many hours animating him whenever she exclaimed, “Make him talk!” Maria’s story told how her favorite game at age three, was racing him to the kitchen to see who could eat the carrots first. And she explained her joy in teaching him how to speak better, since he made mistakes like saying “ter-doc” instead of “doctor.” Through this story, I felt Maria’s deep fondness for our play.
Even when Maria was much older, her ever-evolving language skills displayed more of her character. During her senior year of high school, I admired the birth of her high-pressure essay-writing talents. While applying to 19 colleges, she spun story after story about her aspirations, life, accomplishments, and hardships. Her perseverance led to her admission to many highly competitive schools, including Georgetown University where she enrolled.
I recently met some new parents. They beamed as they tried to decipher their one-year-old son’s babbles and occasional words. After enjoying their delight from a distance, I approached them to say, “My greatest joys as a parent were watching my daughter’s growth through the birth of her language—from her first words to her college essays. Lots more joy awaits you.”
When I walked away, I thought of the old saying, “Our eyes are the windows to our souls.” I think the saying should be changed to “Our words are the windows to our souls.”
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