Leaning against one of the many ivy covered arches that surround the outdoor dance floor, I release a contented sigh, it's been a long day.
The sun had set an hour or so ago; the younger children were reluctantly being shifted off to bed, while the older ones kept each other entertained with the chocolate fountain, they too would depart soon enough, and as the DJ the slowed things down a little, before the real party could get back into full swing, only a dozen or so guests still occupied the floor in front of me. I scan the area; smiling softly to myself. Two elderly couples sway gently to the soothing tune that croons over the speakers, some of my cousins grudgingly dance with their significant others who had forced them to the dance floor; my brother and his new bride show off the well rehearsed moves that two months of lessons had equipped them with. But my eyes were quickly drawn from the bride and groom to the most elegant pairing on the floor, they fell together so perfectly that the only reason anyone in the room would have given them a second look would be to watch how graceful they loo together.
Their steps are nothing extravagant, but there's magic in the simplicity of how they move. I'm grateful of the open bar that the majority have taken full advantage of, otherwise someone might have noticed my eyes glisten as they welled up with the slightest of tears at watching the two of them dance this way. They hold each other with a strong gentleness, almost like one would hold a butterfly - not too tight that it would crush it, but secure enough that it wouldn't fly away. Their faces are only centimeters apart but they won't kiss, I can tell. They look almost lost in the moment as they gaze adoringly into eachother's eyes; it's a sight that you see so rare in people; there's so much in love between them, even I feel like they're alone in this place, and I know for them, there is nobody else in the world right now.
I watch them as the song continues to sound and feel a tightness in my chest. It's not a bad feeling per say, it's almost as though something I've known all along is finally settling into me. Time passes and everything changes; I knew this day would come. I'm not entirely prepared, but I can accept it.
I was enough for her not long ago; I was her hero, but as I watch someone else step into my place, I'm not exactly sad, no, I wouldn't call it sad, it's difficult to describe but I'm okay. Life goes on and I can't stand in her way. I'm letting her go.
I still remember the day she was born. I was only a resident at the time, finding my feet in plastics, when I got the page to tell me my wife had gone into labour. I never moved so fast in my life. I'll never forget the feeling when the nurse handed her tiny little blanket covered body to me, I was so scared I'd drop her. Aside from the nurse, I was the first one to hold her, my wife had held our son first so insisted I took Santana, my first daughter. My only daughter. I've never felt love quite like I did in that moment, it's a deep love, one between only a father and daughter. From the first breath she breathed I treated her like a glass doll about to break. She was and always has been the most precious thing in my life. There's a place in my heart reserved just for her, and it will always be there, of that I'm sure. She still means the world to me and the trust I'm passing over scares me to death but I'm confident in the tenderness I see my girl's being held, that no matter what, she's in safe hands.
Santana has grown into such a beautiful young woman. I'm not being biased, well maybe a little, but she's gorgeous. It's hard to believe, as I watch the still dancing pair, that this stunning creature now so in love with someone else, is the same little chubby girl I tucked into bed every night and read countless fairytales to. But I knew the first time Brittany S. Pierce walked into our lives, that it was only a matter of time. Never before had I seen Santana be so careful with anything or anyone, she was immediately protective over her. Only with Brittany would my daughter share her toys and candy. Only with Brittany would Santana endure Peter Pan, a movie she had despised all her life, over and over again at a simple request from the blue eyed blonde. Trying to separate them was next to impossible as children and became even more difficult as they grew into their teenage years, by then there was no point in even trying.
I'd never seen Santana so lost as I did during those months that Brittany dated that crippled boy; I knew she thought she was hiding it well, but her affections were no secret to her mother and I. It came as more of a surprise that she had taken so long to realize it herself. I prayed every day that she would, that she'd just embrace herself and her feelings that were so blatantly obvious to everyone but herself.
The song fades before coming to a gradual end, but their gaze never falters, even as the other occupants leave the floor. I watch them from my position at the arch and although it's difficult to give her away, I feel even more at ease as I watch her mouth a whispered 'I love you' to Brittany and watch as Brittany mirrors the sentiment with an 'I love you back' without a second's hesitation.
But one thing stands true, regardless of their deep, heart-wrenching love for one another:
I loved her first.
