A Dad, A Girl, and Call of Duty

There was a time when my husband and my eldest daughter were really close. She was definitely his little girl and he was the love of her life.

Then puberty happened and an awkward distance grew between. It was as though they forgot how to talk to each other, so we lived with an uncomfortable silence in the house. He missed her and she missed him, but the longer it went the harder it became for them to talk to each other.

He mourned for the daughter who unselfconsciously hugged him and she missed the father who was her enraptured audience. Then last wek she and her younger brother pooled their money and bought an XBOX. She borrowed Call of Duty from a friend and suddenly the walls between her and her father melted away. Here it is 10:30 at night and I can hear the laughter and cameraderie from in the next room.

Every night they wait until I’m finished watching the news and they impatiently begin fidgeting for me to say I’m going to bed. They know I can’t handle the carnage. I know they’re waiting for the freedom to play.

So here I am, curled up in bed and blogging, while they are out refighting the Vietnam War (I think..I don’t really know these things). All I do know is that it is an answer to my prayers. Somehow that dumb electronic box and it’s first person shooter game have brought these two back together and I will be forever grateful.

Because more goes on than shooting the bad guys. They talk about her plans for the future and his past goofiness. They reminisce about the boy he was and the woman she hopes to become. As they team up for a new sortie, they are teaming up with each other…which makes the electronic gunfire in my living room music to my ears.