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The long lasting impact of a hurting heart is protection and internal decisions.
When our dad left we were left to fend for ourselves in whatever way that might mean for us.
Growing up without a dad was hard, I grew up with no male ‘opinions’, no daddy affirmations or words of praise.
Now to be fair if he had stayed I might not have heard those words from him either; but having him gone left it as a known emptiness.
I could not fill in the blanks and the only words I heard; were from our mother which was not often very helpful or encouraging.
As a young person growing up I did not feel valued or even wanted at times.
There were grandparents who cared, even that was pretty limited.
Oh our mother loved us, but her inability to share that was really hard on a child’s heart that is already broken.
I navigated through the pre-teen and teen years and the growing up without a dad’s internal voice in my head and heart.
I determined in my heart that I would stay protected and walled off so that no other pain could enter.
That only worked for a short amount of time, till something deeper came along.
It has always been a daddy wound for me, to not have him present at my wedding, or children’s birth or times when I was very sick and wanted him near.
He was gone and absent and I had to navigate life as a daughter without a dad.
We did end up meeting in my living room when I was in my mid thirties.
I was cautious and careful tiptoeing around conversations and topics. It was like a dream I could never allow myself to think about.
He was a nice man, I am sure looking back at it now, it was probably hard on him too; to meet after so many years.
I don’t know if he felt bad for leaving, I guess I either thought it wasn’t important or perhaps; I didn’t want to hear the reason why, so I never asked him.
After all the years lost between us it really didn’t matter.
He was present in our lives for many years as an older dad. He even remarried our mother.
It was a love between them that never left, and strange as the story is, they remained
married and I think happy, well into their 80’s, dependent on each other till death parted them as it says in the wedding vows.
It is a very interesting story and very important too.
I grew up without my dad’s love. I didn’t feel it, learn it or receive it.
For a daughter that is a big void. Even as an adult I never had his ‘input’ in my life.
I guess that is one of the reasons when I sing the song in church, “your a good good father,” it brings me to tears.
For I can sing it with a knowing… that the song is true and real, God has been good to me.
I am able to put my hand on my heart and sing, “your a good good father, that’s who you are, and I’m loved by you, that’s who I am.”
My identity and dna is my dad’s daughter. My spiritual identity is the father’s daughter.
This is my story and the reason why I write.