Warning: This post contains music, so turn the speakers down or pause it if you need to, but listen when you can. This is a decidedly different post on my blog, but I wanted to honor Father’s Day by recalling my own. If your father is still here to receive your own love letter….please give it to him.
What can you say about a man whose heart you possessed at first sight? It’s easy to say that you love and respect him. That’s expected. Or that you’re glad that he stayed when so many didn’t.
How can you ever thank him for teaching you how a man is supposed to love a woman? I know that the smile that mama possessed every time he came through the door asking “Where is that girl I love?” spoke volumes to me.
I’m glad that I had the chance to tell him if only a fraction of what was in my heart……..of how lucky I felt to be his daughter even though communication between us was sometimes difficult. I was touched to see him rubbing his glassy, rose tinted eyes as he read the letter whose words told what I found difficult to say out loud. Though I had nine siblings vying for his attention, I never felt as if I was lost in the shuffle. He made time for all of us and that made us feel mighty special.
He was always soft spoken and possessed a quiet strength that held the family together through good times and bad. Work was his constant companion and it was rare for him to take a day off because he took his commitment to us seriously. I think that is probably what gave him the most satisfaction….knowing that we never went without….we were always clothed, fed and nourished by his love and devotion. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week.
He wasn’t my father. He was my dad….my daddy…the man who scooped me up whenever I fell asleep in front of the tv and put me in my bed. Not once did he know that half the time, I was feigning sleep. It just felt good knowing that my dad would take care of me no matter what.
He only remembered us in rare, lucid moments toward the end of his life. But, I could tell that deep in his heart he never forgot. And that’s what matters most. I think of him often and I wish I could have been there to say goodbye. I know when he arrived at the pearly gates his first words undoubtedly were “Where is that girl I love?”
I love and miss you,
Happy Father’s Day