Not long ago, I broke my collarbone. I wish I could say it happened while I was wrestling an alligator or jumping my motorcycle over the fountain at Caesar’s Palace, but the fact is I slipped on some ice while I was walking my dog. (Don’t tell my daughter. She thinks I did it while saving Taylor Swift from getting hit by a car.) As normally happens when you break pretty much any bone in your body—especially when you’re over 60—I was physically useless for a few weeks, but that actually led to a tear-inducing handmade card I received from my 13-year-old daughter.
The outside was pretty basic…
I was immediately touched by the fact that she went through the trouble of using block letters. It’s truly a child’s way of saying “I love you.” I also like that, instead of “get well soon,” she chose to write “feel better soon,” indicating that my feelings were more important to her than some weird bone she’d never heard of. I mean, “the clavicle?” Sounds more like an unpopular wind instrument. You know… as opposed to all those wildly popular wind instruments.
But it’s what my daughter wrote on the inside that really touched me.
“Since you’ve been hurt, I realize how much you do for me, and I’m so grateful for it.”
Two thoughts came to mind. One, I actually do add value to my family’s lives by being present and looking after them. And two, it’s probably time I teach my daughter how to do her own laundry.
And then she hit me with the big guns.
“Your love and affection is all I need.”
I immediately started weeping even more than when I watch those videos of soldiers returning home to surprise their families (despite the fact that she actually spelled it “effection” with an “e.”) It’s not like I’m going to mark up her card with a red sharpie. That would clearly have ruined the moment. I gave her a big hug and told her I love her. She said, “I know,” like she was Han Solo and I was Princess Leia.
I’ll take it.
The fact that my daughter expressed such appreciation for all the things I do made me feel loved and valued. It also made me realize that, while the recognition is definitely nice, what really matters is continuous effort and commitment to family. My daughter’s beautiful card reinvigorated me and brought meaning and purpose to my family contributions that even I’d begun to overlook. The fact that I had to break my collarbone in order to come to all this sort of sucked, but I’d do it all again… provided this time I could actually do it jumping the fountain at Caesar’s Palace.
