“Do you want me to come with you?”
I was hoping he would ask.
He gets up from what would have been his time to rest and grabs his keys. We drive to the grocery store. It’s just he and I. Our time together. He picks out his birthday pie. I remind him to get the ice cream. He pays the bill. We drive back. I feel richer for simply being with him.
He is 69.
I am 39.
Thirty years apart, but our hearts are ever close.
I once believed disappointment would take precedence over love.
He was 48.
I was 18.
I feared to look into his eyes. What would he think? What would he say? My heart raced in the moments between words.
“I could never be disappointed in you.”
Tears poured out as acceptance flooded me.
A father’s love accepts.
I once believed my world would never be right again.
He was 44.
I was 14.
Crying in a dark corner he reached for me. Held me and cried with me. My heart hurt deeply, and so did his. And he didn’t have to, but he said…
I knew then I would never be alone.
A father’s love comforts.
I once believed the night would always bring fear.
He was 35.
I was 5.
Dark nights and scary dreams led me to seek him for refuge.
As I answered I crawled in next to him where the frightening feelings went away and even the darkest nights became safe.
A father’s love is security.
I once thought I would always be his little girl.
But I grew up.
And I thought for a moment age would bring distance.
He at 68.
I at 38.
My phone beeps from a text message. It’s Dad.
Hey LA…are you free any time this week for a father daughter lunch or something.
I come out with my blonde boy. We have lunch at the usual spot. He shares photos and stories of his trip. I share life and seek advice. I leave full of wisdom, joy, but most of all—love.
A father’s love is forever.
And a daughter’s love is ever rising with hopes to match the depth and height of what she has been given…
A father’s love is m a t c h l e s s.