This article was first written after my dad’s death and I have enhanced it now to accommodate my feelings years later. It is the first in a series of three articles written on incest.
Thank you for being the best Dad ever.
- As I entered life, you could not suppress your happiness over the tiny bundle in your arms—your first and only daughter in a house that already contained two boys.
- As I matured into a toddler, you held me with your strong calloused hands as I took my first precarious steps.
- As I began kindergarten, we both faced our fears—me, for the insecurity of something new—something beyond your presence, strength and love. And for you, recognizing even then your little girl was growing up.As I grew to full time school age, you taught me how to make friends, to give and take and the gift of learning.
- As I entered puberty, you watched me move from child to budding woman and bestowed upon me the respect and responsibility it entailed.
- As I matured into a teenager, you taught me about boys and dating.
- As I started high school, you taught me to drive, having the patience for an overzealous student. You watched me start my first job, and as I stumbled through this new beginning, you taught me the value of a dollar and tutored me in finances.
- When I graduated, you were the first on your feet applauding the loudest.
- As I matured and left your house to make a place in the world for myself, I had all the life skills you had taught me and our bond became even stronger.
- As I matured in life, I gave you your first grandchild and your tears of joy were heard throughout the hospital.
- And as you matured, Dad, into your last days, we just sat with each other; no words needed—it had all been said before.
I wish this was true, Dad.