Daddy’s Little Girl

I was one of two Daddy’s Little Girls, not that I was a twin, there being several years between us.

It was Dad who bathed my scraped knees, Dad who followed behind my bike with the walking stick hooked on the back until I got my balance. It was also Dad who saw to my verucca, dressing it every day until it nearly took his eye out when it erupted forth from the heel of my foot, leaving a considerable hole which miraculously had disappeared by morning without so much as a mark.

It was Dad who helped me with my homework, Dad who encouraged me with my music and played silly duets with me on the piano as a child.

This is by no means disrespectful to my Mum. Mum showed me how to knit, crochet, cook, and when I was poorly, she provided the TLC that only Mums can. The day after wash day, I would set up my own little ironing board as she plugged a small iron into a light socket, and I’d help with the laundry by doing the hankies. I kept my room clean and tidy and helped with the dishes after dinner.

Dad got me through my first boyfriend breakup. There were a lot more after that, and when my sister announced her engagement the day after I’d been dumped by someone I’d been really keen on, it was Dad who provided the tissues as I cried in envy in my room. Dad loved us both but if he treated us differently it was because we were two totally different personalities. For example he taught me cribbage but my sister Judo. I loved bath night as I would sit on a cushion between his feet and he would vigorously rub my hair dry, though Sis didn’t like it.

dad and little girl dancingHe taught us to waltz, though being kids, we cheated and stood on his feet. These dance lessons came in handy later when he gave us both away on our respective wedding days, a proud Father passing his girls to another Man to be loved and cherished. When my niece arrived a few years later, he had another little girl in his life, but he was still there for me.

I wrote to him once. A heartfelt letter about desperately wanting a baby of my own, and how I couldn’t approach Mum because she was so full of the new granddaughter she already had. Poor Mum, she had no idea how I felt. I so didn’t want to hurt her, and although I was pleased for my sister, my visits to the parental home became less frequent. With only the one topic of conversation, and them either expected, visiting or just leaving, it was too painful for me, especially as a pregnancy test had shown a false positive which wasn’t picked up on for several weeks. We never discussed it so I never knew what his reaction was or if he talked to Mum about me. Mum certainly never mentioned it anyway, and when my second niece came along, things weren’t that much different really.

When I got into a bit of a pickle moneywise after my divorce, it was Dad who sat down with me to work out a plan, and by being really strict with myself, I was able to repay my debts without financial assistance from him. In later years, the roles were reversed, though if he’d realised I’d given him all my holiday spending money, he would have struggled to find another way.

I could talk to him about anything. No subject was off limits. I wish I could talk to him now. I miss him so very, very much. He passed from this world with my Mum, brother, husband and me at his bedside. As he had always been there to hold my hand, I was there and held his.

holding handsFor Dad

( Father’s Day 2006 )

I think about you every day,

Often with a tear in my eye,

It seems like only yesterday

But ten years have gone by.

I never told you what I should.

In this life you can no longer be:

I took for granted you understood,

And hope you are proud of me.

I see you often in my dreams

Though your voice I cannot hear.

Life is never what it seems

When you lose someone as dear.

Young and relaxed, your stress is gone,

The warmth of your smile still shines,

You may not be here but Love lingers on,

And will ’til the end of time.

I may have been Daddy’s Little Girl, but more importantly, he was This Little Girl’s Daddy.

About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! We have an elderly dog called Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
This entry was posted in Friend and Family, My life, Poetry, Remembrance and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

54 Responses to Daddy’s Little Girl

  1. This was so poignant and stirring, the story incredibly moving. And the last line was a clincher for me. Had to grab my tissue. Thank you for sharing.

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  4. This is a poignant, beautiful tribute. How lucky you are to have had such a man in your life to guide you, encourage you, and love you.

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  6. Reblogged this on pensitivity101 and commented:

    In response to The Rattling Bones Monday prompt, and with Father’s day coming up on the 21st June, I would like to reblog this. After 19 years, I still miss my Dad and think of him every day.
    https://therattlingbones.wordpress.com/2015/06/15/journal-monday-prompt-10/

  7. colinandray says:

    Beautifully expressed. I consider myself extremely blessed to have a similar relationship with my daughter. I made the transition from Dad to “Dad-type friend” and together we have weathered many storms. We have laughed together; cried together ; shared joys and sorrow together. I feel sad when I meet girls/women who, for whatever reason, never experienced that kind of “closeness” with their Dad. Thanks for sharing from your heart. πŸ™‚

  8. colinandray says:

    Ooops ………. an oversight! I also feel sad for Dads who never experience that kind of “closeness” with their daughter. They are missing out on so much. πŸ™‚

  9. loricarlson66 says:

    I have this kind of relationship with my dad too… thankfully he is still with me and I am getting to be close to him in his last days (which I hope are some mighty long last days!). I am sorry for your loss, that kind of love never goes away πŸ™‚

  10. I lost my father as a teen and miss him daily and dearly. Thank you for sharing.

  11. Judy Martin says:

    This was such a beautiful and moving tribute to your dad. He sounds a wonderful man.

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  15. Barb Knowles says:

    This is so very beautiful. What a special relationship.

  16. Oh wow. Beautiful. Thank you for sharing something so personal. I know it takes guts to do that. ❀
    Hugs,
    Beatrice

  17. Almost Iowa says:

    My dad was one of those guys who never talked about the hard things in life – then in his final years as I drove him back and forth from the VA, I realized why. Nothing that I experienced in life seemed hard to him. It is not that he was insensitive or refused to listen but I simply had no idea of the things he went through.

    • Sometimes as kids we don’t. Things weren’t easy for my either of my parents, yet we never went without the important things. I realised just how much they went without themselves when I was bringing up a young family (not my own) on a limited income andtrying to make ends meet.

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  19. That was beautiful. I’m glad you find it one of your favorites, so that more of us can read it and smile. I’m not one for pressing my spiritual views on others, so please don’t take this wrong. But in my belief system, we see our loved ones again, and to me they are near, although we can’t see them. We can talk to them any time we want and they hear. Sometimes they even answer..because something happens that seems almost a miracle. Sorry if that was too presumptive, as said I don’t wish to push that view on you, just was and is very comforting to me. My Pops passed in 2003 and I miss him every day.

    • My Dad often came to me in my dreams, and Mum has a couple of times too now. I am content to think they are together, and that he was waiting for her in January. I am convinced we will be with our loved ones again. Sometimes I can almost feel them beside me, especially when I’m playing the piano and the old favourites Dad and I played as duets or the classics from the musicals my Mum loved to sing to. I think you and I have similar ideas about ‘the other side’. Mum and Dad are always with me and always will be. ❀

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  21. Yep, this is top notch, my friend! You have articulated with sensitivity and pathos. Thank you for sharing! πŸ§šπŸ»β€β™€οΈβ€οΈπŸ™ donnadoesdresses.com

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  25. Oh, Di… You managed to make me cry reading this amazing tribute to your father. You touched me by reading this because I too, experienced the same factors of my sister having children while I was divorcing. My sister was “Daddy’s Little Girl”, I couldn’t have a relationship with my father. There were just too many years of damage caused by him. That is another reason why my mother and I are as close as we are.
    Honestly, this was such a moving piece to read. All of your heart went into this, and I’m almost certain that while you did write this, the tissues were near you. πŸ’—πŸ˜₯

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  27. michnavs says:

    Oh my God……this made me cry…..i am literally sobbing ..ahhhh …i so love this….❀❀❀❀you are so lucky to have a father like yours. ..i can only imagine the things you shared with him..and that epic “your sister got engaged the day after you were dump”…my gosh…my mind is running wild…

    • Thank you. It’s one of my favourite posts. I had a special relationship with my Mum too, but probably not the same as most daughters in later years because of the distance between us.

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