Sentimental Sunday: The Hero and His First Born

Haven't written a Hero post in a while. Have had some thoughts, but still mulling over several.
This is for the Hero's first born child.

When she was born, the Hero was the first to hold her because I had been drugged by the medical staff so that I slept 5 hours after the birth. Last time that happened.

Back to my story. The Hero frequently would relate to others that his whole life changed the day he held his first child. He said she was pink and perfect.  He was in love head over heels.
She could lead him around with just a smile.

He loved playing with her, reading to her, and she went everywhere with us.  

The first time he had to leave her when he was a US Army Medical Reservist, was excruciating for him. He called. He wrote. He didn't want her to forget him.

Over the years he became wise enough to know a separation did not mean she would forget him, but it was not something he liked either. When she became a woman and went off to college, he was the one who made business trips up to check on her. He would call and check on how things were going. When she came home, he hired her in the office because he believed in her and trusted her work. She never failed him.

It was hard for him to trust the man she chose to marry, not because he was bad or would do bad to her, but because he found it hard to trust that anyone could love and care for her more than he could. (the dad ego). He actually loved the young man very much.

Then came the day that they moved very far away, and his heart broke. He wouldn't be able to visit like he did at home. It was before cell phones like we have today, so calls would be limited. The desire to still be part of her life was very important to him. When her children had special events, he would fly up to be there. There was only enough money for him to go and there was a religious reason it be him. I was okay with it.  
The day came he felt it was time for him to move on from where we were. He spent many hours looking at places near to where she lived. Alas, the feeling he was ready to move on, did not mean moving closer to her, but time to leave this life. We never moved.
6 months before he died, he had just finished chemo therapy, and they said he had gone as far as they would treat him. He was afraid he would not see her or her children again, so he planned at trip for us with our other daughter to drive up to visit.

He loved every minute with them and seeing her. He was so afraid that they would think him a grouchy old man and not remember how much he loved them.
Unbeknownst to us, he had developed gangrene in the area of his treatment and was in tremendous pain the entire time of the trip.  I had to take him into the hospital when we got home. It was the beginning of the end.
Somewhere along the way he had told her that she didn't need him anymore.  I think she took it as a rejection.  I troubled over it for a while, but I have come to the conclusion that he meant that, she had accomplished being her own person. She didn't need him in his mind, like he needed her. He had to let her go.  
The last few days of his life were filled with happiness that she was coming to see him. We kept up with her movements by phone and watching the sky cams on the highways.  Sadly the weather slowed them down and they did not arrive until a day after he passed away;  It was the fulfillment of his feelings of not seeing her again, but his heart was glad that she tried.

Did he love her? Oh, yes!  With all his heart.