Goldfish and Griffith Park...

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This past week, I made two new friends in Matt and Madeline, when Gina asked me to grab my equipment and be her shadow.

Matt's story is so touching and inspiring and so real, and I hope that you will take the time to read his blog. Everybody has a story and his is inspiring to say the least.

As a father, though, Matt's love and dedication for his daughter Madeline touches me because I can see that he loves her just as much as I love my OWN Madeleine (with an "e"). I guess the best way to describe that love is with something that happened a few nights ago before I put Madeleine to bed:

I was in the hallway, heading towards her room, and I said, "Mad Dog [that's her nickname I gave her when she was little], have you picked out a book to read tonight?"

She didn't answer.

When I walked into her room, she was kneeling down beside her dresser holding a picture of me holding her when she was a little baby.

I called her name again, but no response. I could tell that something was bothering her. Her body was tense, and she wasn't moving. She just stared at the picture, and I could see that she was getting ready to cry.

I called her name again, and asked her what was wrong, and holding the picture, she turned and said, "I want you to be able to hold me again in your arms like you did when I was a baby. I don't want to get bigger."



I froze. Speechless. I wanted to just breakdown right there because I had felt the same way. She's turning six in May (we share the same birth day--the 6th) and it's hitting me hard. I can't carry her like I used to because she's stretching out, but I do, and it's awkward. We're like two beanstalks with smiles plodding along the sidewalk.

Before I broke down, I sat down beside her and wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in close to my chest and I said, "I may not be able to hold you forever, but you'll always have a special spot in daddy's arms forever."

We didn't read that night. I guess some nights, there are more important things to tend to that even a book can't explain. Instead, we watched Toy Story 2 and laughed and ate string cheese until we both feel asleep.

True story--one I will never forget.

And as for Matt's story, I am thankful that he allowed me the opportunity to be a part of it that day in the park.