It'sbeen 9 days

For the first time in her life, my daughter has gone (by herself) on vacation to India. Sure, she's surrounded by people who she is comfortable with (my mom, my sister, my brother in law, my other little girl), but this is the first time in her life that she's staying without either of her parents with her. And from the looks of it, she's having a great time.

And we (my wife and I) are the ones having the trouble living without her at home.

She's out there having a whale of a time, what with going to a lot of parties, playing with a lot of kids her own age (something she does not get a lot here in Singapore), going to all the fun places with her little sister, watching plays. Boy, is she having a lot of fun!

And my wife and I are adjusing to a silent house, things to do by ourselves on the weekends and in general a lack of energy at home, mostly because of our little one. But we're really glad that she's going on this vacation by herself. One, because she'll have a good time and be engaged all the time with something to do. But second, and more important, she's grown up to handle herself. There aren't either of us there to take care of her every little thing. Nobody making her go and brush her teeth twice a day (though she still does that with us telling her to do it), nobody to tell her to behave (which she does without anyone telling her) and all the time in the world to do what SHE wants to do without being told. And that to me is the best vacation of all.

When we were dropping her to the airport, she was laughing and upbeat all the way through check in. Even when we stood with her in the queue to enter the immigration zone, she was having a lot of fun and smiling. Only when we stepped back saying that we could not go through with her beyond that point did it sink in for her that she was going by herself and that we were staying back. And that is when the tears started rolling.

So we got out of the queue, me carrying her in my arms in a bear hug and whispering words of encouragement and reminding her of how much fin she was going to have once she lands in India. People are waiting for you to get there, I reminded her. There was even a Princess Party organized in her honour. She didn't want to miss all of that, did she?

After the sobbing subsided and she was smiling again, we assured her that she had to only say that she was not having any fun any more and either of us would be there to pick her up and get her to Singapore. She had the final word. So she stepped through immigration, waved cheerfully at both of us and gave me a big thumbs up. It was only when she went out of sight did I realize that I had tears in my eyes as well.

It's an occupational hazard for me to travel and miss her when I'm not around. But that has been too few and far between since I moved here. By choice, I had wanted a local role so that I could compensate in some way for all the travel I had done when I was in India. Leaving her at the airport made me realize how much more closer we had grown these lat few years.

It was back to the office and most of the time I could not keep my mind on works as I looked, every now and then, at my watch to see if it was time for her flight to land. And finally when it did, I could hardly hear through the din that my daughters were creating in the car. My sister and my other daughter (she's technically my sister's, but she's practically my own) had come to pick her up and there was a lot of celebration happening. A few words reassuiring me that she was fine and that the flight was a pleasant one, and then she was gone.

And I ralized how my baby had grown up. And I was proud and scared at the same time. Proud of the fact that my seven year old was game enough to take care of herself, by herself, for almost a month. That she was mature enough to handle herself without her parents being around. That she was having fun.

Scared because I always worry about her. That I'll always worry about her. And I realized that I will feel exactly this way when she goes to study or gets married. I will be proud of her achievements, and scared out of my wits for her safety, worried for her happiness.

My wife routinely calls me "Father of the Bride", mainly to remind me that, no matter how open I am and how encouraging I am, I will always feel how a father feels about his daugher. Possessive!

For now, she's having bucket loads of fun. But I can tell that she misses us a lot. She does not say it (she's a lot like me in a lot of respects...what do you expect?), but I know from the questions and te responses. She'e having fun, so she does not want the vacation to end. But she wants to come back and so the vacation has to end. It's in those lines of conversation when I notice her emotions the most.

It's been 9 days since she's been on vacation. And it's not even half time yet.

I really miss her. A lot!