Daddy's girl?

What does it really feel like to be adored by your daddy?  I wish I knew.
Did your daddy pick you up?  Set you on his lap?  Pat your head?
Call you princess, pumpkin, darlin'?  Did he ever laugh at your cuteness?
What is that like?
I have a dad.  He lived in the house with us.  He was there, but he wasn't.
My older sister called him ghost dad.
There were no cuddles, no touch at all.
He did not delight in us.  He only acknowledged our presence when we
were in his way...bothering him, blocking his view of the television.
I rarely sense that I missed out, not consciously.  Once in a while, though,
I do feel that daddy hole.  The emptiness that never got filled.
And this week, it felt like a big punch in the gut and this blog is my therapy tonight.
I really try to remember anything that gave me a clue that he loved me.  loves me.
He took us fishing....oh yeah because Mom made him.
He made weird faces at the dinner table...which we just found weird.
He bought us gifts when he had been out of town...Mom told him to.
Enough of memory lane!
I have to move forward again.  Tears may stain my pillow tonight, but JOY
comes in the morning.

Someday I will sit on my heavenly Father's lap and He will call me Princess,
because that is what I am to the King of Kings.  And He will let me cuddle for a while, He will
wipe away these tears.  Someday...