I look into her eyes, and I slowly nod my head and squeeze her had again. The tears well up in her eyes and she bites her lip. “Ok. Ok.” She looks up at the doctor who scribbles something down on the clipboard, and passes it to my daughter to sign. The doctor leaves the room and I’m left with my daughter. It’s a struggle, but I turn my head in my pillow to face her completely. She is so beautiful. I want to tell her but I can’t. I know I can’t. The doctor enters the room again with a special bag. He explains that I will only feel sleepy, and that I should try to remain as calm as I can. My daughter hold onto my hand has tightly as she can as the doctor replaces my IV with the exit solution. Within a minute I feel very tired, my daughter starts to cry and brushes the side of my head very gently. She whispers quietly.
“I love you, daddy.” And then a whirl of images flickers across my vision. My daughter running towards me from the school bus, her walking across the stage at her graduation, her wedding day, in all of these images she is smiling, the young girl from school flies into my waiting arms and I whisper to her.
“I love you too, Caroline.” Holding her in my arms, I turn and go onto the porch where my wife is waiting for me, with eyes as radiant as the morning sun.