Coming to grips with the circle of life can be tough for a dad

EDITOR:
Life is filled with circles
My Brittany is 13 now. She's my eldest daughter. She plays the piano. She studies French. She monopolizes the telephone. She fashions her hair at night before bed. Her blow dryer whines behind a closed bathroom door. She's growing up. She's at that difficult stage of life: no longer a child, not quite a young woman.
Still, every now and then, that little girl I held in my arms returns to me. When her feelings have been hurt, when she's discouraged, when she's had a bad day. Like an apparition of times past she appears with a frown on her face, with a tear in her eye. I comfort her. Just like her pre-school days. I remember the routine. I'd walk her to her classroom, her hand softly folded in mine. She'd look up at me and ask, "Daddy can I stay with you?" I'd reassure her, "You'll be fine. I'll return soon. Give me a hug." Gently, I'd dry the tears from her eyes and take her to her teacher. Then I'd quickly make my exit, not daring to look back. I'd walk to the front of her pre-school to where my car was parked. I'd get in, turn the ignition key, and notice her standing at the front classroom window waving good-bye, sobbing. She'd watch me drive away. I'd waive to her until I turned the corner. She would break my heart.
Last night, she rehearsed her speech for her 8th grade communications class. I was her audience. She stood before me, her hands clasped in front of her body, her voice confidently reciting well-prepared line. How tall she's become. How quickly the years have passed. My little girl ... My little girl.
Soon, the day will come when she'll walk out my front door and be gone from me. It's inevitable. There will be college to attend. There will be that special job out of town. There will be that young man that she met while away at school that has asked her to marry him. It's part of life here in Youngstown. We raise our children, and then watch them leave for better opportunities. I wish I could change that, but I don't know how. I'm not sure anybody does. And so I wait ... I wait for the inevitable.
When that day arrives I hope to be ready. I've got a few years left to prepare. Who am I kidding? I'll never be ready. When that day is here, I'll walk Brittany out my front door, her hand softly folded in mine. I'll stop and tell her that she can stay if she wants to. Tears will well in my eyes. She'll try to reassure me, "I'll be fine, Dad, really. I'll be back to see you soon." She'll embrace me and then turn away, not daring to look back. She'll quickly walk to her car, get in, turn the ignition key and back out of the driveway. I'll stand at the front room window watching as she drives down the street. I'll keep waiving until she turns the corner and drives out of sight. My little girl will break my heart all over again.
Life is filled with circles.
DAVID BOBOVNYIK
Youngstown