I watched my daughter dip and spin in the Pink tutu my mother sent as a late birthday gift.
“Watch this Daddy,” Veronica sang across the lawn.
“I’m watching, honey,” I said back.
Her bare feet were lost in the long blades. The twin braids she’d proudly wove the night before slapped her shoulders and checks.
“Can you see, El?” I asked of the pale blue sky. My palms stretched across my knees.
“Watch this Daddy,” Veronica called as she tipped onto her right toe, touched the ground with the tips of her right hand and attempted to turn. “I’m like a ballerina.” She sang out before falling over on her left knee.
“Try again.” I encouraged.
“El, can you help her?” I asked of the sky. “Can you extend yourself to us? Hold our daughter up so she doesn’t fall?” I wiped the emotion from my eyes and looked across the lawn. Veronica was singing I’m a little tea pot while she twisted, tipped and spun.
“I can’t keep her safe alone.” I said into the void.