What’s a Daddy?

When I was a child I asked, “What’s a Daddy?”

Now that I’m older I say:

I wish you were here.
I wish you could see me happy.
I wish you could see me healthy.
I wish you could see me aware.

I wish you could have seen me navigate the landmines.
I wish I had a life filled with memories of you.

I wish I knew why you left.
I wish I had closure.
I wish I knew how you passed.
I wish I knew the impact of a father’s love.
I wish I knew the hopes, wishes, and dreams you wanted for me.
I wish you had taught me the lessons a daughter learns from a father.
I wish we had a lifetime of positive memories. In absence, I wish I had just one.

The story I tell myself is that you were wounded, you weren’t ready to be a father, and so you left.

I wish you could have seen the repair. It may have inspired you to break out of your cage and believe in yourself.

I tell myself, I’m always going to be in need of what a mother and a father provide. I grieve daily for guidance, protection, and love. I give that to myself in a dance of radical acceptance.

Guiding myself. Protecting myself. Fighting for myself. Building a life where I feel safe.

I look at the sky and wonder if you’re looking out for me.
I hope you’re in a good place
I hope you have peace.