my daddy

My daddy called last night.

We are close. I would say that there is something special between us because he’d never held a newborn baby before he met me.

We also have a connection because our brains work in the same way. We have so much fun together at the prospect of a project. We could plan it out for hours, adding and perfecting every bit. I love that about us. I feel that in some way that makes our relationship distinctive. Each of the 5 of us has our thing with him, and this is mine.

I remember when I was in kindergarten, one day a week he would meet me at the end of the school road, I remember my heart in my throat because I was so excited for our “man to man” time. We went to a little donut shop and talked about a bible lesson. I’m sure we also talked about school and my friends and he made me laugh because he always did. I remember plain as day sitting in the old yellow plastic booth, looking up into his eyes and feeling like the most special little girl in the world. One of my fav memories. Tears in my eyes.

I remember getting up with him in the middle of the night to polyurethane the floor in the house he was building. I was tired, but I wanted to help and mostly I just wanted to do a good job so he’d be proud of me.

I only remember one time that he told me he was disappointed in me. I had followed a friend into a bad decision - I stole because she did. I learned from that day sitting on the stairs talking to him two things, the first -  I never wanted to follow someone into doing something I knew was wrong again. and two - I’d much rather any punishment than have him say he was disappointed.

I remember eating family dinner, being mad at him for who knows what and he would tease me until I started laughing. I could never stay mad at him.

I remember him carrying me after we lost our son, Zach. He lay me in the backseat of the car and took me home, his hand on me all the way there as I sobbed deeper than I ever had. Tears slipping down my face as I tell you about that moment.

I remember so many times he would pull our family into a big group hug to pray for our safety, for our well-being, for our happiness, for all our dreams to come true.

I could write pages and pages of the things I remember about my dad, but mostly I remember feeling safe. Especially with my little hand wrapped inside his big, rough one.

My daddy called last night.

He wanted to check on me and tell me that they were speaking at a conference this weekend and that all the people there stopped to say a group prayer for me. Tears came to my eyes in appreciation. It is so encouraging every time I hear about the people who are praying for me.

Then we talked about this and that. Right before we hung up he mentioned that he was going to be the one to bring mom later this month.

Now my mom makes it up here about once a month, but with dad’s work schedule, it’s really hard for him to get time away. So when he said he was bringing mom up, I lost it. I didn't even know the sobs were coming, the tears just bubbled over as I asked if I had heard right. He assured me I had, and after I asked him a few more times, I finally blubbered my way through an I Love You and a goodbye.

I hung up my phone and continued sobbing for the next twenty minutes.

I can’t wait to see my daddy.