There's nothing quite like the relationship between a girl and her father. Growing up, I didn't have a close relationship with Daddy. I yearned for one, but it just never happened. I know now he loved me the best way he could, but I sometimes wanted more. I wanted to be able to share things with him...my thoughts.....my fears. But we never really talked. I use to envy girls who had a close relationship with their dad. Who could go up to their dad, hug him and tell him she loved him. I don't ever recall doing that. Maybe it was me. Maybe if I had taken the first step, we could of had that sort of relationship. Unfortunately, I will never know. I sometimes wondered if I had been his biological daughter, would our relationship had been different. Growing up, I didn't have any memories of my biological dad. My parents slit when I was about 3 or 4 I guess...I'm not really sure. Mommy never talked about him, I never saw a picture, didn't even know his name, until after Mommy died. That's when he called me, told me he loved me and if I ever needed him, he was there. Even though Daddy had wanted to adopt me, Dad said he would never let that happen, because he felt one day I would need him and I did. About 7 months after Mommy died, I went to live with Dad in Texas. He had driven all the way from Texas to NY to pick me up. I remember when I first saw him, I was just in awe thinking this was MY dad. On that long ride to Texas, I often wondered if I did the right thing. I had never met this man, at least that I could recall and I was moving from my family, my home, everyone I knew to live with strangers.
One of my most vivid memories of our trip back to Texas was Dad's tattoo. I recall riding in the front seat with him, and noticing a tattoo on his bicep. The tattoo was a drawing of me, with my name underneath it. My dad had a tattoo of ME on his arm! I can't recall exactly what he said about it, something to the effect that even though he was not in my life while I was growing up, he loved me and thought about me everyday. I don't know why my mom and him split up. I've never asked him. Not really sure why it was decided it was best that he not keep in contact me. What I do know, is I'm glad I have my dad in my life. I'm not always the best daughter, I don't call as often as I should, but I love my dad none the less. I think I'm too old to be called Daddy's little girl, but the last time I visited him, we were sitting on the couch and I laid my head on his lap and fell asleep and at that moment, I finally felt a little taste of what being Daddy's little girl felt like....
There's nothing quite like the relationship between a girl and her father. Growing up, I didn't have a close relationship with Daddy. I yearned for one, but it just never happened. I know now he loved me the best way he could, but I sometimes wanted more. I wanted to be able to share things with him...my thoughts.....my fears. But we never really talked. I use to envy girls who had a close relationship with their dad. Who could go up to their dad, hug him and tell him she loved him. I don't ever recall doing that. Maybe it was me. Maybe if I had taken the first step, we could of had that sort of relationship. Unfortunately, I will never know. I sometimes wondered if I had been his biological daughter, would our relationship had been different. Growing up, I didn't have any memories of my biological dad. My parents slit when I was about 3 or 4 I guess...I'm not really sure. Mommy never talked about him, I never saw a picture, didn't even know his name, until after Mommy died. That's when he called me, told me he loved me and if I ever needed him, he was there. Even though Daddy had wanted to adopt me, Dad said he would never let that happen, because he felt one day I would need him and I did. About 7 months after Mommy died, I went to live with Dad in Texas. He had driven all the way from Texas to NY to pick me up. I remember when I first saw him, I was just in awe thinking this was MY dad. On that long ride to Texas, I often wondered if I did the right thing. I had never met this man, at least that I could recall and I was moving from my family, my home, everyone I knew to live with strangers.
One of my most vivid memories of our trip back to Texas was Dad's tattoo. I recall riding in the front seat with him, and noticing a tattoo on his bicep. The tattoo was a drawing of me, with my name underneath it. My dad had a tattoo of ME on his arm! I can't recall exactly what he said about it, something to the effect that even though he was not in my life while I was growing up, he loved me and thought about me everyday. I don't know why my mom and him split up. I've never asked him. Not really sure why it was decided it was best that he not keep in contact me. What I do know, is I'm glad I have my dad in my life. I'm not always the best daughter, I don't call as often as I should, but I love my dad none the less. I think I'm too old to be called Daddy's little girl, but the last time I visited him, we were sitting on the couch and I laid my head on his lap and fell asleep and at that moment, I finally felt a little taste of what being Daddy's little girl felt like....
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