As I wrote about in my Marco Polo has nothing on me post, I just spent a whirlwind 12 hours visiting my oldest daughter in her new apartment in New Jersey. Due to some repair and remodeling delays, she’s only been in the apartment for a few days…and like any new home it looks like a bunch of closets, cabinets, and dressers threw up everywhere. Looking around I could tell that she’s my daughter…there was a certain type of organization that mere mortals would never see as such. The unwashed public would see a disorganized mess, but I saw a certain harmonious selection of personal items searching for their new locations.

Even after several hours on the phone discussing the selection of the apartment and many of the specifics, the actual place came as quite a pleasant surprise. I somehow didn’t process that it’s a four room apartment,including a really cool sitting room/office/second bedroom. It’s pretty big by first-apartment standards, especially in such a high rent part of the country. The building has lots of character, meaning the stairs are curvy, crooked, and their creator lacked a level. The floors aren’t flat, and they aren’t level, and the corners giggle at the thought that “normal corners” have to conform to that 90-degree thing. It’s an apartment that has tons of character and is a great first place for her to live on her own.

But it’s in New Jersey!

It’s 1,846 miles from me. It’s frickin’ halfway across the country. And I’m not there to help with all the stuff that she needs to get done. And she doesn’t have a car. And everything is so far away. And the accent is something I can’t quite fathom. And there are a gazillion people living there.

It’s a totally different world than South-Central Kansas. Heck, we have a single family home on 14 acres of horse pasture. They don’t have that much green land in any of the areas we went by near her apartment for miles.

But honestly, it’s not about what she’s missing. It’s not about what she doesn’t have. It’s about wanting her to be happy. If I could have left a box of hugs and kisses for her in the little bit we could transport on our whirlwind trip, that would have taken precedence over everything.

The poor guy in the seat next to me on this plane looks really worried as I keep having to wipe tears off my cheek behind my glasses. But it tears me up that my daughter is so far away every day. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited for her. She’s gone out and left the nest, taken a chance, and is working her butt off to make her dreams come true. What more could a Dad want…other than to just hold her on the days when things don’t go right and help celebrate the triumphs when they do,

With today’s technology of cell phones, WIFI, computes, and Skype it’s easier than ever to stay in touch. We have lots of opportunities to communicate, and we take advantage of those chances a lot. But as we stood on the sidewalk saying goodbye and embracing, it really hit me how much I miss hugging her and telling her how much I love her to her face…without a computer screen between us.

So would you do me a favor? Would you hug your kids a little tighter and a little longer for me tonight? They grow up way too fast!