In the early days her Superman was larger than life. There was nothing that he couldn't do. Even the sound of his appearance brought forth squeals of delight and sent her running toward the door as fast as her little legs could carry her. The hugs were deep and lasting. She wanted to grab hold so that he would always be with her. She always had so much to tell him. There was no detail that wasn't shared in full, from her latest artwork, to things that she heard and saw while playing, to fun songs that she made up. I remember in those days how much I wished I could stop time and just live the rest of my days in those moments. However, time never heeds our pleas to linger. It resolutely marches along in its unflinching pace.
As the calendar pages turn in our lives, subtle shifts occur in the day-to-day that are so easy to miss. Yet viewed in their entirely in hindsight, they are not missed. I can see how my Superman persona slowly and surely dissolved in the eyes of my daughter. It began with her noticing little things, like the loose threads on my cape, the faded color of my suit, the fact that I didn't fly as high as I used to. Too soon for me, I was just an earthbound man. Still her dad, but ordinary nonetheless. No longer larger than life. While I still sometimes wish I could go back to those days where I was seen to fly high into the clouds and when I heard those squeals of delight at my presence, I am content to love who my daughter is becoming and to look forward with great anticipation to the years ahead with her.