hey daddy.
how are you?
I just wanted to say hello, and let you know I'm alright. I know you're busy. I know the wind blows tasks into your to do list like leaves, and the rain washes away the line that reads "don't forget to call your daughter."
I got sober, if you were wondering. I only drink now when I forget about you, when I forget that I look like you with whiskey in my hand. I stopped taking things to fill the void once I realized you wouldn't call. If you were curious, I found a bigger love, people who carry me. They check on me, and we have family dinners, and they show up for me. I found a safer love, one that doesn't forget what I look like, or forget my birthday, or forget to call when I cross the ocean.
hey daddy.
How's the baby? I know he isn't a baby anymore, but he's frozen in my head that way. I don't know him, and I don't know you either. The man you are is a great father, a businessman, a family man, and a stranger. If I saw you in a crowd, I don't think I'd know to say hello. I think I'd see a resemblance and turn around because the man I knew and the man you are today are different people, and I wouldn't want to risk you not recognizing me again. That was a stab in the heart, because maybe it had been over a year, but I have your eyes, I thought you'd know me, and you looked right through me.
hey daddy.
I miss you, Actually, I wish I knew you- that sounds more correct. I remember missing you, even as a little girl. Missing an idea of a man I thought you could be. I missed school lunches packed for me, and fresh laundry, and brushed hair and teeth. I missed you waking up early, and being kind, and loving. I missed family dinners and dance recitals and hugs. I missed being loved by you. I missed it all. How's the baby? I know he doesn't miss you. I know he won't ever have to. You pack lunches now, and wash laundry. You brush his hair and his teeth. You wake up early and cook family dinners. You're so present, he'll never know what the void feels like, or have a need to fill it. He doesn't have to look around for a face he won't find in the crowd, because you're front and center. The wind blows you closer to him and farther from me.
hey daddy.
Why is it so easy now? Why does love wrap around you like the sun in the heat, but when I was young we were stuck in the winter under storm clouds filled with empty words and absent fathers. What's so different about him and I? Why wasn't I good enough for you to get better then? Why was it so easy to watch me take care of your babies? Take care of myself? Why was it so easy to apologize, but easier to slip back into the habit of "forgetting"? Don't say you're busy, don't say you're tired. That would be a lie, because you're not too busy to make lunches, or do laundry, or take a family vacation. Just "too busy" to check on me, too busy to get to know me, too busy to love me. You have the time, just not for me.
hey daddy.
I know you say it hurts that you screwed me up, but if you'd pick up the hammer and nails, I'm sure the screws would tighten back up. If you'd reach for the drill and the level and the frames you knocked off the walls, and just try.. I think we could be okay. But that's like trying to pretend Venice isn't sinking, and we're Atlantis, our city went under long ago. I know you said it hurts to see me, but I see you every time I look in the mirror, and my eyes are sometimes empty like yours. Do you see me in yourself? I used to say I never wanted to be like you, but some things we can't help. I got your eyes, and your anger, and your ability to bottle things up until the bottom of the bottle is the only thing that relieves the pressure on my chest. I fight it all. Tooth and nail, I want to be anything but you. But that man I see in the mirror isn't the man you are, and I can admit that.
hey daddy.
It makes it worse to know you've changed. My lungs fill with resentment like cigarette smoke. It feels good for a second before it rots me from the inside out. I admire the father you've become, as a woman; but not as a daughter. You could change for him, but you never changed for me. Even now, as I expand the distance, still knowing you'll never attempt to close it, I hope sometimes. I don't know when the tornado comes that puts me back on your to do list but I wait, patiently and filled with confusion. The little girl I was would love to know what it is that made her so easy to hurt, so easy to leave. The woman I am, longs not for an answer, but for peace. I want you to know, you showed me exactly what not to do. I'm glad you're getting a do over, but I want you to know I won't need one. I'll love my babies correctly the first time. That way they don't have to watch as adults as I try again, that way they don't have to fight resentment towards a baby that deserves to be loved in every capacity. That way they never wonder why there's no one in the crowd for them, or worry that the other kids will smell the dirt on my skin and the stains on my clothes. That way they don't have to climb the counters and learn to cook at 5 years old. That way they never have to ask why they weren't enough, what they did wrong, or fill the void as they get older.
hey daddy.
I love you, but damn it I wish I didn't. I'm proud of you, but damn it I wish I wasn't. Because I'm still not enough, I'm still that little girl with big opinions and bigger dreams, and you're still the small man that can't support either of those. I'm so glad that little boy will never meet my father, but I'd love to meet his one day. So if I ever fit into your busy schedule, I'm here. Not as a daughter, but as a woman who'd love to see who you've become. You weren't ever my dad, but maybe one day you could be my friend, and I could know my brother. Maybe if I'm not your daughter, it won't hurt to see you love another baby how you should've loved me.
bye daddy.
I pack my lunches now, and eat three meals a day. I work out, and cook nice dinners. I wash my hair and my laundry and do face masks and drink white wine on occasion. I show up for myself, and my village shows up too. I self soothe when things hurt, and I tell myself I'm proud. Because I built this, with my two hands, and my feet moving forward beneath me. I'm happy, and I'm healthy, if you were wondering. I have a beautiful life and I'm healing every day. I've forgiven you for the things you didn't do that hurt me as a child, but I'm still trying to forgive you for the things that hurt me now. Since you don't call, I don't feel I need to rush the pain or the forgiving. I push it away, how you push me away. Some days it hurts, but most of the time your memory is just a glimpse into the girl I used to be. Because the woman I am now, is enough, and always has been, and if you can't see that, I don't know that she's someone you deserve to know.
bye daddy.
I'll shake your hand and introduce myself by name next time I see you, and we can both pretend you don't have it tattooed on your body. I'll pretend it doesn't hurt when you don't realize I've tattooed the pain you've caused on my own. We'll just be strangers and maybe that won't hurt quite so bad.
