When Abby was a little girl I cherished those nights when I was home and was able to tuck her in. I would sing her the song “Hushabye”, Beach Boys version of course. She loved the song and eventually sang along with me. “Sing me ‘Hushabye’ Daddy”, became a bedtime ritual in our house.
Last month I lost my best friend of over thirty years, the man who was the best man when Laurel and I were married. He was also Abby’s godfather. The morning after the funeral there was an e-mail waiting for me at work from Abby, now twenty four years old and the executive editor of the Valley Press and the West Hartford Press.
“Daddy”, she wrote, “Do you remember that song you used to sing to me when I was a little girl? ‘Hushabye, Hushabye, oh my darling don’t you cry. Guardian angels up above, take care of the one I love,’ I love you, Daddy.”
Abby is getting married next month. The father-daughter dance at the wedding will be “Hushabye”. Beach Boys version of course.