A little more than three years ago, Father’s Day took on a new meaning for me with the birth of our daughter.

The changes in my own perspective are probably a bit remarkable were I to stop and consider just how much my world has changed in a short time.

Early on the sense of worry about the new arrival stemmed from simple concepts to adults, but ones that take on monumental proportions for first-time parents.

“Is she eating enough?”

“When did last go to the bathroom?”

“Is she sick?”

The first-year worries soon turned to lots of toddler joy.

Most of my early worries have given way to more reflective concerns.

“How do we teach her good morals and good behavior?”

Fortunately, my wife and I both had good role models in our own parents.

“How can we shield her from the horrendous evil in the world?”

Truth is we cannot, at least not forever. For the moment, she doesn’t have a clue about terrorism threats or realities.

I cringed last week with reports that the Orlando nightclub shooter may have considered Walt Disney World as target.

The horrors of the shooting could have been magnified tenfold had the shooter managed to infiltrate the populated theme park.

For now, we’re able to shield nearly all of that from her small innocent mind.

But I know it won’t be possible forever.

She’ll eventually be exposed to the world’s nastiness.

For now, we chuckle almost daily at the things her mind dreams up.

For months, she’s had a fascination with babies. Every doll and stuffed animal in the house has at various times received the baby treatment.

That comes complete with diaper changes — some real, others imaginary — feedings, burpings and rocking to sleep. It’s quite cute.

Last week she started telling us that she remembered being inside her mother’s abdomen prior to birth.

Puzzled, but intrigued, we went along with it.

“You do, what do you remember about it?” we asked.

The imagination kicked into overdrive.

“I had lots of things in there with me,” she said.

“Oh really, like what sort of things,” her mother asked.

“A walker and my toys and a pillow,” she said.

“What else?” Mom asked.

“A refrigerator.”

“You had a refrigerator in there?” Mom questioned. “Why did you have a refrigerator in there?”

“For my milk. Babies drink milk,” she said, assertively.

But of course. How could we have been so silly not to think of that?

Anna’s own world is about to become far different in the months ahead as well. Preschool will start again in the fall and perhaps around Thanksgiving, she may welcome — at least at first — the arrival of a sibling.

Mom and dad have put our collective foot down about Anna’s suggested name for her soon-to-arrive little brother — Dress.

The name should come as no surprise. She has a penchant for using the names of household objects to name things around her.

Last summer, we raised two caterpillars found in the backyard — OK, one never came out of his cocoon — whose names were Bun Bun and Bread. RIP, Bread.

Anna is excited by the pending growth of our family, as are Julie and me.

Next year, with God’s continued blessings, we may have another reason to celebrate on Father’s Day.

Happy Father’s Day to all the Dads out there.

 

Kevin Cooper is publisher of The Natchez Democrat. He can be reached at 601-445-3539 or kevin.cooper@natchezdemocrat.com.