“The pain of grief is just as much a part of life as the joy of love; it is perhaps
the price we pay for love.”

 

   Today, Elliston would have been 5 months old. It doesn’t seem possible. I feel like we’ve began to find some optimism in things. I’m learning to celebrate Elliston and what she means to us and others. I’m still amazed by the outreach from friends and family. The #forelliston hashtag on Instagram still gets posts. A couple of weeks ago I received an email photo from a buddy of his daughter next to a statue of an elephant with the subject ‘For Elliston’. It’s easy at times to feel like Tiffany and I are alone in our grief or missing her. I can’t put into words what it means to know that she is still on people’s minds. That the memory of her is encouraging them to take a few extra moments and “love on their kids”.
  
   Someone told me that they hate to see bad things happen to good people. It was a nice thing to say. I’ve been thinking about that phrase. I’ve found myself asking, why us? But, why not us? Bad things happen to people. I think what separates good and bad people, is what we do when something bad happens to us. I don’t want us to sit in dark rooms thinking morbid thoughts. “Once you accept the fact that life is not fair, you’ll be more at peace with yourself. Instead of obsessing over how unfair life is, just focus on what you can control and change it for the better.” Elliston is the most beautiful light I’ve ever had in my life. She has/is making me a better person. She’s hopefully made me a better husband, brother, son, friend, and one day… a better father. I carry her everywhere I go. I’m learning to be more open about our story. It’s not always easy, but I think it’s necessary.

“Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shine down upon us to let us know they’re happy.”

 

 

 On Monday night, Tiffany & I went to a support group meeting at one of the hospitals out here for parents who have lost a child. When we arrived, we found out that they were having an annual candlelight visual. I was already having a hard time going to the group and this was really difficult for me. I found myself getting really angry. As people spoke, they used words like “baby died”. I know Elliston is gone, but I still can’t use those words. I don’t even call her service a funeral. They hold the support group on the first Monday of every month. We plan on going again. It’s been over a month since we lost her and it still feels like everything happened last week. 

 

   We had an ultrasound the day before we lost Elliston. Her heart rate was a strong 151. Since she was born, we’ve found out that due to the knot in her chord & it being around her neck, had her ultrasound been done just a few minutes earlier or later, it probably would’ve shown a lower heart rate, raised concern, and she’d probably be here with us today. This is where I am stuck. Angry with God. It wouldn’t have taken an earthquake. Just something simple, like the ultrasound tech needing to pee or me not finding my keys for five minutes. There is a David Bazan song that keeps resonating with me called, “When We Fell”. “When you set the table & when you chose the scale. Did you write a riddle that you knew they would fail? Did you make them tremble? So they would tell the tale. Did you push us when we fell? What am I afraid of? Whom did I betray? In what medieval kingdom does justice work this way? If you knew what would happen and made us just the same, then you my Lord can take the blame.” I know these words seem harsh or may scare some of my family & friends. I’m not denouncing my religion or anything. I feel threatened to be a Christian now. “If you don’t stay on the right path, I’ll send you to hell and you won’t get to see your daughter.” Several years ago, when Tiffany & I were going through marriage counseling, she said, “I’m so mad & hurt that I don’t want Colby around. But, I love him so much & when I’m mad & hurt, he’s the only person I want around me”. That’s kind of how I feel. My friend Chad told me my soul is in a kind of civil war. All of these are great examples. I’m angry at God but run to him for guidance & support. It hurts to know I’ll never get an answer. Some people say, “You’ll understand when you get to Heaven”. Great! I have to die to get an answer. Sometimes it’s best to just not say anything, folks. I don’t mean to come across as bitter. At the end of the day, I’m a dad who misses his daughter. Some people may think that since we lost her just before she was born it doesn’t credit me as a father. I had 9 months of dreams & hopes for a little girl. 9 months of memories. She was stubborn. Music would calm her down or get her to look at us during the ultrasound. She was beautiful. While holding her in my arms, I was crying, & begging for God to make her take a breath. That’s what I have experienced as a father. I hold on to a small amount of hope for the future. We do want to get pregnant again. I don’t know when. We’re trying to place that in God’s hands.

"Did you push us when we fell?" -David Bazan

   I've always been told that the Bible says God will never give you more than you can handle. What it actually says is, "No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it. 1 Corinthians 10:13".  This is a very hard thing for me to read these days. If we won't be tempted past our ability, then I'm as close to that as I can be.

 

10/26/12, 4:15am: I'm awoken from a dream (that to this day, I can't remember) and my wife tells me she's been awake for a little bit with contractions. We had experienced Braxton Hicks before, so we were pretty confident this was the real thing. That sometime in the day or so, we would finally get to meet our daughter, Elliston Rae Pitts. We monitored Tiffany's contractions for a few hours & around 7am called in to work & had our Doula, Amanda, come over to the house. The contractions were about 5 minutes apart & Tiffany decided she wanted to go to the hospital. Tiffany's goal was to complete the entire labor & delivery process as naturally as possible. Being that she was in a considerable amount of pain, she felt that as long as she knew Elliston & herself were okay, she could endure the pain. I loaded our bags, birthing ball, & car seat into the car and off we went. Although I felt terrible about the pain the contractions were causing Tiffany, I felt a giddyness about being a father of a daughter.

10/26/12, 9:12am: We arrived at the hospital & everything seemed pretty normal. They brought Tiffany & me back to triage and began to ask a billion questions to prepare us to be admitted. One of the nurses was pretty aggressive with Tiffany & you could hear their frustration that we weren't answering the questions as quickly as they'd have liked. I explained that her contractions were coming very close together at this point (2-3 minutes apart). She checked Tiffany's heart rate & then began to check for Elliston's. She couldn't find a heart tone for Elliston, so they brought in a different type of doppler. When that didn't work, we began to become pretty scared. We both began to pray, asking Jesus to please not let this be happening. An older nurse came in with the ultrasound machine. Time slowed down. I'll never forget the weight of seeing the image on the screen. Her perfect little body with a blank rib cage. No little light flashing. No flicker of a heartbeat. I immediately pulled Tiffany close to me and we cried together. Asking God, why? I don't know what hospital protocol is, but one of the nurses ran over, put her hand on Tiffany's stomach and began to pray. The room became dark & heavy. The nurses were crying. Amanda (our Doula) came in and cried with us. A few minutes later our OBGYN, Dr. Bullaro, came in & made the final call. She slammed the ultrasound wand down on the table &damn near crawled into the bed with Tiffany & me. She was crying too.

10/26/12, 9:38am: They moved us from triage to birth & delivery. Dr. Bullaro explained that because of future pregnancies, we should avoid doing a C-section, but encouraged Tiffany to take an epidural. I went out into an area of the hospital where no one was and made several phone calls. Mom, Dad, In-laws, & a few close friends. I wasn't sure what to say. To be honest, I can't even remember exactly what I said to them, but I did my best to explain the situation.   

   While at the hospital I wrote on Twitter, “In the darkest of times love, family, & friendship will always shine a light on you”. I really meant this. The support from everyone was incredible. From the website Ben & Holly set up to the calls, texts, dinners, donations, & comments on Facebook. It felt like people really understood the depth of the situation and kept us from feeling like we were facing it alone. So to all who called, text, wrote, donated, fed us, & prayed… Thank you.  

   Hope is a strange thing. Although everything medically said Elliston was gone, I kept hanging onto hope. Hope the doctor was wrong. That God would fix the situation. I kept trying to think of something I could do to change the outcome. That she would come out kicking & screaming & everyone would be celebrating. 

   The next several hours are a blur. I didn't know what to do or say. I tried to be strong for Tiffany. We talked a lot & tried to prepare ourselves the best we could.

10/26/12, 7:05pm: Our nurse, Beth, had been in and out throughout the day but it was time for a shift change. Our new nurse, Jenn, came in and introduced herself. She was very nice and respectful of our circumstances. She asked us if we had thought about having some photos taken once Elliston was born. This is something I had heard of and read about in some of our pregnancy books, but had never really thought much about. It seemed strange to me. Like, would we put on matching outfits and pose? We told her we would think about it. She informed us that there is an organization of volunteer photographers that will send someone out to take photos if we’d like. We were also informed that Dr. Bullaro was not on call that evening and a different doctor would be performing the delivery. While this isn’t something we were thrilled about, we knew it was always a possibility. We met the other doctor & she seemed like a nice person.  Our niece & nephew, Cara & Cullen, & our friend Suzanne had been at the hospital most of the day with us, along with Amanda. They went to the hospital cafeteria for dinner and brought back some food for me. I tried to eat, but just wasn’t hungry.    

   

   Time seemed to carry an uncomfortable cloud over the next couple of hours. Knowing that delivery was coming, but it would not bring the joy and excitement I had been anticipating for 9 months. That all it would bring would be the end of hope. Hope that the doctors were wrong. Hope that we would spend the rest of our lives with our daughter.
 

10/26/12, 9:54pm: It was time to push. A few minutes earlier we had found out that, although she wasn’t on call, Dr. Bullaro was coming to the hospital to do our delivery. This meant a lot to us. We weren’t just patients to her. We were a family about to go through the worst tragedy of our lives. She came in, went over some brief instructions for us, and the delivery process began.

10/26/12, 10:06pm: Elliston Rae Pitts was born. 6lbs, 9oz. I’ll never forget what happened. As she came out, I pulled Tiffany’s face into my chest & said, “Don’t look yet. You don’t want to see her like this.” I buried my face into the top of Tiffany’s head. You could hear the shock in Dr. Bullaro’s voice as she counted the number of times the chord was wrapped around Elliston’s neck. 1,2,3,4,5,6,7… and there is a knot in the umbilical cord. As she said these things aloud, you could tell she was crying. Jenn tried to radio in the information, but was crying too. Tiffany & I began to cry. Another nurse took Elliston over to the “heat lamp bassinet thing” and began to clean her off. After a couple of minutes she brought her over to us. There was such an overwhelming amount of emotions. Heartbreak, fear, anger, confusion. How could this happen. She was perfect. Beautiful. I felt an incredible rush. “Don’t be scared, she’s your daughter and you love her.” We held her and cried. I kept thinking and praying. God, you can fix this. I would stare at her just hoping more than I ever had that she would take a breath. For some sign of movement. Had you walked into the room, and not known what was going on, you would have thought she was a perfectly healthy baby sleeping. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

10/26/12, 11:47pm: Jenn, our nurse, informed us that the organization of photographers couldn’t get anyone to come out to the hospital. I was really frustrated by this. An overwhelming fear came over me that there may come a day when I wouldn’t be able to remember ever detail of Elliston. She had Tiffany’s nose and my ears. Her long little fingers & toes. Those chubby little cheeks. Jenn told us that she wasn’t okay with us not getting pictures and that she worked as a nurse part-time and was a photographer outside of the hospital. She called her husband and had him bring up her gear. I don’t think she’ll ever know what the photos mean to us. The weight it lifted off of our shoulders. Relieving the fear of forgetting. I was so angry with God but thanked him for making Jenn our nurse. Her and Tiffany talked throughout the evening. They cried together. It was obvious to me thatJenn wouldn’t just be a nurse we had in the hospital one time. Today, Tiffany calls her “New Friend Jenn” and I call her N.F.J. for short. Haha… ridiculous. It’s crazy the people that get placed in your life.

                                                   

                                              

10/27/12, 3:38am: At this point Tiffany & I had been awake for over 24 hours and hadn’t eaten in a day and a half. I was holding Elliston, but was so exhausted I finally had to place her in her bassinet. I wheeled it over next to Tiffany’s bed so they would be close to each other. I laid down on the hospital sofa and fell asleep.

10/27/12, 4:46am: I woke up and we spent the next several hours just sitting with Elliston. Talking to her. Talking to each other. Around 8:30am Suzanne & Cara came back to the hospital. A bit later Kathy(Tiffany’s ex-sister in law) & Georgia (another friend of ours) came to the hospital & sat with us. They held Elliston and we talked about how beautiful she is. As the day progressed I noticed Elliston’s body began to change. Jenn’s shift had ended earlier that morning and our new nurse Whitney had come on duty. I pulled Whitney aside & asked her what changes were going to be coming regarding Elliston. She explained things to me and told me some things I could do to prolong the changes. We wrapped Elliston in an additional blanket and when someone held her, I would nonchalantly wrap a blanket around them as well. I tried to guard everyone from these changes for as long as possible, but science began to take ahold of her little body.

10/27/12, 2:17pm: People had been in & out all day and Tiffany & I took turns holding Elliston. Jenn had emailed us one of the photos she had taken & it turned out beautifully. Some of the changes that were happening to Elliston, I could no longer hide from everyone. I explained to Tiffany some of the things Whitney & I had discussed. We decided it might be getting close to a time to leave the hospital.

10/27/12, 5:32pm: We had spent several hours sitting with Elliston. We both took showers. I packed up our things & Suzanne & Leila helped me carry everything out to the car. Whitney came and talked with us andpromised us she would personally take care of Elliston when we left. The normal procedure is to place the baby in the bassinet that is in the room and leave, but Tiffany & I knew we couldn’t do that. We couldn’t bear to walk away from her.

10/27/12, 6:12pm: There’s a lyric in a Brad Paisley song that says, “A man doesn’t have to die to go to hell.” It sounds dramatic, but that’s how I felt. Knowing there was a clock counting down to having to hand Elliston over and never see her again. Everyone had left the room. Tiffany was holding Elliston and I lay in the bed with them. We began to cry. Really cry. A heartbroken cry I had never experienced before. We told her how much we loved her. I said I was sorry this happened. That she deserved to live a long life. We told her how beautiful she was.How proud her mom and dad were to call her daughter. That we missed her so much already. We decided to pray. I told God how pissed I was. I don’t understand why this happened. That if he was protecting Elliston from something, then why let Tiffany get pregnant with her to begin with. I pleaded with God to take good care of her. To let her know how much her parents love her. That there will be a hole in our hearts forever. To let Elliston know that her parents will dedicate their lives to being people she can be proud of. We kissed her little face. And then we cried some more.
   

   How do you say goodbye to your child? Knowing you will never look down on her beautiful face again. Having to take the first step in accepting that she’ll never run, play, or laugh on this earth. We told her we love her so much. I walked over & pressed the button to call Whitney in. I asked Tiffany if she wanted me to hand her to the nurse. My wife is the strongest most incredible person I know. She told me she wanted to do it. I knew it was the right decision. It was something a mother needed to do. We kissed Elliston’s face, told her we love her & Tiffany handed her to the nurse. Crying, Whitney delicately took her & walked out of the room.

10/27/12, 6:52pm: Numb. That’s the only word I can use to describe the feeling I felt. Tiffany and I held each other and cried. We told each other how much we love one another. That we know the statistic is against us. But that we’re above that statistic. That we honor Elliston too much to turn on each other. Tiffany is my best friend. I told her we’ve been through too much over the last 5 years of marriage to be with anyone else. Whitney came back to the room a few minutes later to walk us out of the hospital. She had brought Tiffany a wheel chair and Tiffany refused it. She said she would walk out on her own. Another example of why I love her so much. Her strength. It was heart-wrenching to walk out of that hospital empty handed. Going through labor & delivery and leaving with a stuffed animal the hospital had given us in Tiffany’s arms. Our nursing staff had cleared the waiting room so we could leave in peace. Leila had pulled my car up by the front door & I helped Tiffany into the passenger seat. Whitney gave me a hug and said she was really sorry this had happened. I told her to please take good care of Elliston & with tears in her eyes, she said, “I will”. I got into the car and we drove away.

"There is no footprint too small that it cannot leave an imprint on this world."

   

   Dear Friends and Family,

   I started this blog awhile back as just an outlet. An outlet to talk about whatever random thoughts were on my mind. Since everything has happened I've decided to use it for a different reason. I've deleted some of the old posts (mainly because they were ridiculous). I kept a previous one, because I think it's important. It is 50 rules for dad's with daughters. 50 things I had planned on implementing into me & Elliston's relationship. My hope for this blog now is that one day, a father out there somewhere, will run across it and it will either challenge him to love his kids to the edge of his being or it will comfort a dad, who like me, has suffered a horrible loss.
   
   Monday, November 26, 2012, Elliston would be one month old. I still don't fully grasp that she'll never run or play here on this earth. I find myself still wanting to buy her toys or thinking of a place I want to take her. I'm also surprised by the emotions that are still coming so heavily. The anger at boredom. We shouldn't be bored, we should be exhausted and sleep deprived from late night feedings and diaper changes. Feeling like I let my family down. It's a father’s duty to protect his daughter and I couldn't. Fear. Fear of trying to have another baby. Fear of holding our next child to an impossible comparison. Guilt. Feeling guilt that I'm not honoring Elliston enough. That having another child is like a slap in the face to her memory. That I'm not living my life to a standard that represents a perfect baby girl. Sadness. I never imagined how much of a hole her loss would leave in my heart. I miss her so much. You can feel her absence in our house. A crib she'll never sleep in, toys she'll never play with, clothes she'll never wear. I don’t understand and it’s hard to except that I probably never will. 
   
   The support from so many people has been incredible. I don’t think people realize how much the posts, photos, comments, texts, cards, & phone calls mean to us. I look at the #ForElliston hashtag several times a week. Knowing that she isn’t forgotten brings me hope. I hope that her name and memory will drive people to Love. To love on their kids a little more. Give them that extra hug before bedtime. Say yes to that extra scoop of ice cream sometimes. That it will give Tiffany & me strength to live our lives in a way that, as she looks down on us from heaven, she can be proud to call us Mommy & Daddy. Heaven seems more real to me now. It's not a place where, 'if I act right and say my prayers', I'll get to go one day. It's where my daughter is. I know she's there, playing with her brother/sister we lost in a miscarriage last November. I hope my Grandpa Pitts is teaching her to fish. That my Grandma Hargis is telling her stories before she goes to sleep. I try to find optimism in these dark times. Sometimes it’s doable, sometimes it seems impossible. We just take things as they come. A day at a time & sometimes, an hour at a time. I know that in time we will find balance in these thoughts and emotions.
 

   I'll end this post with these words. Not mine. Not even a friend's. They're the words of a friend of a friend, to us, from a vision the Lord gave her. Sarah Bridge, if you ever see this, I hope you know how much these words impacted Tiffany & I and gave us such comfort and hope. Thank You!

 

   "I had two miscarriages before my daughter, Ruby was born. Recently, I took the ultrasound pictures out and looked at the due dates and realized that those babies would be 5 and 4 now. Crazy.

   A couple of Sundays ago at church, the worship leader asked everyone to speak out our thanks to God. I was praying and felt led to thank God for those two babies, who made a huge impact on my husband and I even though we lost them so early. Then the Lord gave me a vision of a group of children in a field. Tons and tons of kids standing around waiting for someone. And they were all so excited! At the front of the group were a little girl and a little boy who looked to be approximately 4 or 5 years old. All of a sudden, the little girl ran out from the group to meet another little girl. It was Elliston. She hugged her and they walked hand in hand back to the other children. Those kids had been waiting to welcome her into the Presence of God. I find it such a beautiful thought that my babies are not only in the presence of God, but that they are also with other children who love each other and welcome each other with such joy."

  The other day, Tiffany emailed me a link with 50 rules for Dads with Daughters and I thought it was a pretty fun/accurate list of things to live by. I hope you enjoy it as well.

"That classic parent attitude, 'I brought you into this world, I gave you life'. I just think the complete opposite. My kid, she gave me life, you know, she gave me a reason." -Flea

50 Rules For Dads With Daughters

1. Love her mom. Treat her mother with respect, honor, and a big
heaping spoonful of public displays of affection. When she grows up,
the odds are good she’ll fall in love with and marry someone who
treats her much like you treated her mother. Good or bad, that’s just
the way it is. I’d prefer good.

2. Always be there. Quality time doesn’t happen without quantity time.
Hang out together for no other reason than just to be in each other’s
presence. Be genuinely interested in the things that interest her. She
needs her dad to be involved in her life at every stage. Don’t just
sit idly by while she adds years to her life… add life to her years.

3. Save the day. She’ll grow up looking for a hero. It might as well
be you. She’ll need you to come through for her over and over again
throughout her life. Rise to the occasion. (Red cape and blue tights
optional.)

4. Savor every moment you have together. Today she’s crawling around
the house in diapers, tomorrow you’re handing her keys to the car, and
before you know it, you’re walking her down the aisle. Someday soon,
hanging out with her old man won’t be the bees knees anymore. Life
happens pretty fast. You better cherish it while you can.

5. Pray for her. Regularly. Passionately. Continually.

6. Buy her a glove and teach her to throw a baseball. Make her proud
to throw like a girl… a girl with a wicked slider.

7. She will fight with her mother. Choose sides wisely.

8. Go ahead. Buy her those pearls.

9. Of course you look silly playing peek-a-boo. You should play anyway.

10. Enjoy the wonder of bath time.

11. There will come a day when she asks for a puppy. Don’t over think
it. At least one time in her life, just say, “Yes.”

12. It’s never too early to start teaching her about money. She will
still probably suck you dry as a teenager… and on her wedding day.

13. Make pancakes in the shape of her age for breakfast on her
birthday. In a pinch, donuts with pink sprinkles and a candle will
suffice.

14. Buy her a pair of Chucks as soon as she starts walking. She won’t
always want to wear matching shoes with her old man.

15. Dance with her. Start when she’s a little girl or even when she’s
a baby. Don’t wait ‘til her wedding day.

16. Take her fishing. She will probably squirm more than the worm on
your hook. That’s OK.

17. Learn to say no. She may pitch a fit today, but someday you’ll
both be glad you stuck to your guns.

18. Tell her she’s beautiful. Say it over and over again. Someday an
animated movie or “beauty” magazine will try to convince her
otherwise.

19. Teach her to change a flat. A tire without air need not be a major
panic inducing event in her life. She’ll still call you crying the
first time it happens.

20. Take her camping. Immerse her in the great outdoors. Watch her
eyes fill with wonder the first time she sees the beauty of wide open
spaces. Leave the iPod/iPhone at home.

21. Let her hold the wheel. She will always remember when daddy let her drive.

22. She’s as smart as any boy. Make sure she knows that.

23. When she learns to give kisses, she will want to plant them all
over your face. Encourage this practice.

24. Knowing how to eat sunflower seeds correctly will not help her get
into a good college. Teach her anyway.

25. Letting her ride on your shoulders is pure magic. Do it now while
you have a strong back and she’s still tiny.

26. It is in her nature to make music. It’s up to you to introduce her
to the joy of socks on a wooden floor.

27. If there’s a splash park near your home, take her there often. She
will be drawn to the water like a duck to a puddle.

28. She will eagerly await your return home from work in the evenings.
Don’t be late.

29. If her mom enrolls her in swim lessons, make sure you get in the
pool too. Don’t be intimidated if there are no other dads there. It’s
their loss.

30. Never miss her birthday. In ten years she won’t remember the
present you gave her. She will remember if you weren’t there.

31. Teach her to ride a bike. Watch her confidence soar.

32. Let her roll around in the grass. It’s good for her soul. It’s not
bad for yours either.

33. Take her swimsuit shopping. Don’t be afraid to veto some of her
choices, but resist the urge to buy her full-body beach pajamas.

34. Somewhere between the time she turns three and her sixth birthday,
the odds are good that she will ask you to marry her. Let her down
gently.

35. She’ll probably want to crawl in bed with you after a nightmare.
This is a good thing.

36. Few things in life are more comforting to a crying little girl
than her father’s hand. Never forget this.

37. Introduce her to the swings at your local park. She’ll squeal for
you to push her higher and faster. Her definition of “higher and
faster” is probably not the same as yours. Keep that in mind.

38. When she’s a bit older, your definition of higher and faster will
be a lot closer to hers. When that day comes, go ahead… give it all
you’ve got.

39. Holding her upside down by the legs while she giggles and screams
uncontrollably is great for your biceps. WARNING: She has no concept
of muscle fatigue.

40. She might ask you to buy her a pony on her birthday. Unless you
live on a farm, do not buy her a pony on her birthday. It’s OK to rent
one though.

41. Take it easy on the presents for her birthday and Christmas.
Instead, give her the gift of experiences you can share together.

42. Let her know she can always come home. No matter what.

43. Remember, just like a butterfly, she too will spread her wings and
fly some day. Enjoy her caterpillar years.

44. Write her a handwritten letter every year on her birthday. Give
them to her when she goes off to college, becomes a mother herself, or
when you think she needs them most.

45. Learn to trust her. Gradually give her more freedom as she gets
older. She will rise to the expectations you set for her.

46. When in doubt, trust your heart. She already does.

47. When your teenage daughter is upset, learning when to engage and
when to back off will add years to YOUR life. If you succeed in doing
this, tell me how.

48. Ice cream covers over a multitude of sins. Know her favorite flavor.

49.  Her first boyfriend. This day will come. There’s nothing you can do to be ready
for it. The sooner you accept this fact, the easier it will be.

50. Today she’s walking down the driveway to get on the school bus.
Tomorrow she’s going off to college. Don’t blink.