Ala bon sa bon 21yèm Anivèsè, Ti bebe ti fi

My daughter Caity is 21 years old this week. It is a bittersweet birthday because my baby girl isn’t my baby girl anymore. I am so proud of the young woman she has become but as she grew up I regretted not being able to pick her up, siye dlo nan je li, epi fè a “ti fè m mal” ale.

Caity came into my life when she was a little over one and half years old. I started dating her mother after my sister’s wedding. We were married a year later.

Caity’s dad and I built a solid relationship over the years. I never wanted to take his place. I just wanted Caity to have as normal a life as possible.

I never refer to her as anything but my daughter. Tam and I have two sons. God gave me the daughter I always wanted.

When I think back on the years, I am reminded of the funny things she used to say. When she was two or three years old and I was aggravated about something she did, she would say, “Chill out, Daddy-O!” One time she got angry with me and told me, “Don’t you never, ever, ever, never, never, ever talk to me again.”

I mostly remember sharing a love of history. Li te youn nan sèlman nan timoun mwen mwen pa t 'gen kòronp ale avè m' nan mize a Istwa. She also liked old movies but couldn’t get into Kabinè a nan Dr. Caligari (1920). “It’s just weird, Dad.”

As she grew up, nan “ti fè m mal” became “big hurts” I couldn’t so easily brush away. As a parent, it is harder to watch your children struggle than you struggling yourself.

She also eventually started dating. I always said I’d be nice to the ones I couldn’t stand and mean to the ones I liked. I never quite got around to being nice to the ones I didn’t like. I was just generally mean to all of them.

On Caity’s special day, I look forward to years with my grandchildren. When I look down on them and see my daughter’s eyes, it will remind me of the days the curly-haired little girl walked around in her mother’s shoes, mete sou jwe l 'sou fwaye granparan li yo ak fè bèl pawòl li ti kras, ki te fè li soti nan pwoblèm pi souvan pase pa.

Caity wasn’t a perfect child. God knows I wasn’t a perfect parent. But she was the perfect daughter for me. I love you, baby girl. And I’m proud of you. Love, Papa.

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