Father & Husband Helps Heal A Hurting Heart

Up until the age of 11, I had the perfect dad.

I was the youngest of seven children, a “surprise” to my parents who had me relatively late in life. When my mom was pregnant with me, her youngest was age 10 and her oldest was 20 and getting married. Because it’s a lot easier to spoil one child than it is to spoil six, I had a completely different childhood than my siblings. Because my dad had been sober for almost a decade by the time I was born, I had a completely different father, as well. I think he viewed me as a chance to make up for all that he had or hadn’t done with my siblings.

So I was spoiled.

I was the apple of his eye. I wanted a horse…I got a horse. I wanted a Cabbage Patch doll…I got two. I wanted to go (anywhere I asked)…we went. I grew up with my dad telling me tales of the fabulous car he would buy me when I turned 16, and, despite how he raved that no boy would ever be good enough for his baby, how he would give me the biggest, most beautiful wedding. He told me every day how beautiful I was (though I had an early-starting and long-lasting awkward phase!).

There was no doubt in my mind that he thought I hung the moon. And the feeling was mutual. You get the idea. Spoiled.

When I was 11, my dad was diagnosed with cancer, and he died six months later. I was devastated. My world was turned upside down. By the time I was 15, I was used to not having my daddy. It was “normal”, if you will. But I’d had him long enough to know what I was missing.

I remember vividly when the movie Father of the Bride came out, and I couldn’t understand why everyone thought it was such a happy movie. Why my best friend, who had a great relationship with her dad, didn’t even cry one tear…NOT ONE!…at any point in the movie, while I couldn’t seem to contain them.

I would bawl like a baby at weddings when the bride and her father would walk down the aisle, and then again for the father/daughter dance.

Fast forward to first date.

First boyfriend.

Graduation.

Getting engaged.

Wedding.

My oldest brother walked me down the aisle.

The father/daughter dance was conspicuously absent.

Having kids. My oldest child, Jakob, was born on my daddy’s birthday, and  I know he would have been bursting at the seams with pride.

All joyful, beautiful moments, but I still had a sense of something missing, of something not being quite right.

I would bawl like a baby at weddings when the bride and her father would walk down the aisle, and then again for the father/daughter dance.

While browsing through Father’s Day cards, I dissolved into sobs at the grocery store. Not happy tears, but broken-hearted tears.

Then, without even realizing it, my heart began healing.

Watching my husband David interact with our three daughters (Alex, 7, Charlie 3, and Sawyer, almost 2) is truly a thing of wonder. It’s hard to tell who adores whom more. He takes them on dates. He rough-houses with them. They play Tickle Tackle, Bed Roller, and Sneaky. They have tea parties. They watch Tangled. They go together to Home Depot.

I am incredibly blessed watching my husband nurture, cherish, and raise our girls. When I think of the things that my girls may deal with as they get older––crushes, broken hearts, successes, sickness, and who knows what else––I am comforted knowing that they have a daddy who’s lap they can cry in, be they tears of joy or pain.

Knowing this has allowed me to reconcile my own broken heart regarding not having my dad there for me to do all those things with.

David regularly tell his girls how special they are, how talented, funny, smart, kind, and beautiful they are. He has vowed that any boy who may come to pick up one of his daughters for a date will be met with a shotgun and a stopwatch.

He is already instilling in them Godly principles in a way that only a daddy can do.

Now the tears come from a grateful, healed heart. Instead of the memories being a glaring list of what I didn’t get to do, it makes me look forward to what my girls WILL get, and have gotten already.

And I’m not envious anymore when I watch a dad walk her daughter down the aisle. I’m happy, both for the bride and for my girls. And as for that darn father/daughter dance, David is now the one who cries.

 

 

 

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One Responseto “Father & Husband Helps Heal A Hurting Heart”

1. Shelly Shetter says:

   June 15, 2012 at 9:08 pm

   This post brought tears to my eyes! You sharing your experiences will help many. I have a father who is still alive but not very present. I don’t have the best relationship with him but I’m thankful that I still have him. This gives me motivation to keep on and trying to have the relationship with my dad.

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