All my cherished things have come from my daughter Jen over the last 20 years.
My refrigerator is covered with art and handwritten notes she has given to me as birthday gifts.
One time when she was little, the mailman knocked on my door and showed me an envelope addressed to some boy at Jen’s school. It was full of assorted junk: pennies, a small screwdriver, random computer parts. The mailman said he couldn’t deliver it, but he figured I would enjoy it more than Jen’s schoolmate would anyway. I still have the envelope, unopened (I determined the contents by listening and holding the envelope up to the light).
I used to bicycle competitively. When Jen was maybe seven years old, she picked up the hobby of making little craft objects. She made a kind of braided bracelet out of colored twine for one of my birthdays. I attached it to my bicycle handlebars and it’s been there ever since. Race officials won’t let you race with any paraphernalia attached to your bike, but Jen’s gift always escaped their notice. It has seen many, many miles, and all kinds of weather. Even a couple of crashes.
I saved the best for last. Some background is necessary. Jen has never said “I love you” to me. Not once, in 20 years. That’s how reserved she is. I think she said it once to her mother. She will grit her teeth and let me hug her once or twice on the days that I see her, but that’s about it. She stopped letting us kiss the top of her head when she was 15. She won’t visit me at my house (she lives with her mom), and if I don’t call her, I never hear from her, except when she needs homework help.
There’s much more, but you get the idea. I rate somewhere between dog food and Barney the Dino with her. But a few days before Christmas last year (2017) she sent me a text: “will u come over for xmas”. That text is the thing I will always keep and cherish the most.
Hmm, I also have video of her when she was about five, drinking fresh-squeezed lemon juice. Guzzling it and asking for more, in fact. Not a gram of sugar. I like showing that off to people who ask me about my kid.