As was recently referenced in this space, I am the newest father in the newsroom. And yes, I will admit, I was looking forward to my first Father’s Day. We had a baby girl last year so last month, I worked hard to get my wife a memorable Mother’s Day gift of collage photos. I even got the baby to drool on a card for her mom. I hope she liked it and was wondering what our daughter would “get” me for my first day.

For years, I’ve celebrated that day with my dad, sometimes on the golf course, or just visiting at home, or on the phone. I continue to with him and with my friends who have kids. I always dreamt that on my Father’s Day I would get to sleep in a hammock and then watch the U.S. Open. But in hindsight that seems rather selfish.

On Sunday, we baptized our daughter. My wife worked hard on organizing the event, with just a few close friends and family members. A couple of my best friends and their families came in from out of town – one from NJ and another from NJ via San Francisco via Chicago via visiting their family in NJ to coming through Albany on their way back to the Windy City – along with two of my brothers. Unfortunately my parents could not travel.

Anyway, we had a great day at church and I walked around with my daughter as proud as can be – my wife often describes it as “Lion King”-like and I won’t disagree. We’ve waited a long time for our precious gift and I am happy to show her off. She was very good in church. As she took in all the excitement, she was a trooper. When I held her over the font and leaned her back, she seemed to enjoy this, not losing eye contact – that is until someone poured water on her head and she turned quickly to see just what was going on and the Priest remarked, smiling, “Don’t give me that look.”

Later, as she was still air-drying, the Priest came over and touched her forehead with oil and he got the look again. Otherwise, she was a happy baby who occasionally chewed my finger and rarely made a peep. Despite being hungry and over-tired, I think she was enjoying having her picture taken and being held by mommy and daddy.

After more pictures we went to the party and the guest of honor didn’t emerge for a while, opting for a catnap and a change of clothes. After all, there’s the formal dress and the party dress with little embroidered cherries. (Very cute, if I do say so myself.)

It was a nice, leisurely afternoon with friends and family from near and far. All the sleepless nights, all the arguments, all the “re-planning”, all the cancelled plans, all the tough times seemed well worth it for this day. And I didn’t look at it as Father’s Day, I looked at it as my daughter’s day.

By the way, when we got home, I did get to open presents – a shirt the color of her birthstone, a book and a framed picture – and I look forward to her many handmade crafts and gifts and like the idea of a cabinet for those rather than “collectibles.”

And I got to see a few holes of the U.S. Open but not in a hammock.

john@wgy.com