Daddy Died… To Make Me Stronger.

Deuteronomy 29:29 – The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may follow all the words of this law.

Today was my first time coming to the conclusion that my dad died when I was 9 years old… to make me a stronger person. I cannot say (with proof) that this is 100% accurate. But today was the first time feeling this… feeling.

My dad was my world. Even at the age of 9, I can remember everything that he would do with my mom and me. I still hate the fact of feeling left alone to tackle this world and all of its obstacles without him. But I’ve been doing it for the past 25 years. So maybe I’m getting good at this… thing… no matter how much it still hurts.

I’m starting to feel like in my pain, anger, and loneliness, I shine. I shine in a way that proves to myself that I AM supposed to be more than that little girl that he left in the year of 1990. What feels more like a battle is that now I have a 4 year old daughter. She’s watching all of my emotions and actions, wether they are good or bad, packed with laughs or hidden in the tears on my pillows.

I sometimes imagine how my life would have been WITH my dad. Things would have been a lot different. For starters, my mother would still be by his side doing something as an evangelist. Me on the other hands… I know I wouldn’t be in Florida. My husband and daughter would probably look a lot different – as I never would have worked in a nightclub at the front door (that’s where I met my husband). And I would probably be on a path to having a 9-5, living in a nice house in a suburban town, and maybe not doing what I truly love as a living. Maybe that would have been a lot harder.

Who knows. Who’s to say that is true or false?

My dad wasn’t the controlling type. So who knows exactly what my life would have looked like with him present [physically].

He used to show me how to draw better than my ability, when I would attempt simple things like houses or trees. Keep in mind, I was under the age of 9.

I was always a little smarty pants… so there we were, in Bridgeman’s restaurant on the University of MN campus for dinner (my mom was with us). I’m drawing all over the back of my kid’s menu some picture that I was comfortable with. He comes along with his pen and tries to show me a better way to draw MY picture! The nerve of this Art major/College Counselor/Preacher/Computer Programmer/Husband Daddy of a man!

Well I showed him. I drew tow trucks to remove all of his junk off my page. Hmph! I won fair and square. I would always pick and choose with him the lessons that he tried to teach me. He would never show anger when dealing with my personality. Maybe he saw early on, that I would be just fine… without him. I’m convinced that is not saying, “oh, she doesn’t need me.” It feels like he wanted, or maybe needed, to get out of my way so I wouldn’t look to him as a crutch.

As much as I miss him and want him in my adult life – I just wish he was here.

I don’t have many crutches to lean on when things doesn’t work out. Maybe that’s also why I can bounce back so quickly and on to the next thing without feeling the pressure and pity party of oh poor me, nothing ever works out. 

Maybe daddy getting out of my way actually made me stronger by taking away my pacifier, removing another opinion, and forcing me to make my own decisions independently. Absolutely making me stand up for myself, hold my head up high and be confident, and to not take no for an answer, from anyone, and to know my worth.

Maybe the year of 1990 was supposed to be the end of his life – when I turned 9 years old – for my entire world to shift on its axis.

It’s hard to feel both empowered and overwhelmed with sadness. But if any of that makes sense, I can’t let him down. He has to know, and see, that what he did was for a purpose. I will get to where I need to be, because in theory (and what I’m going to choose to believe) is that he died for my strength. And I am forever grateful that he saw so much in me to trust me to make it into greatness.



One thought on “Daddy Died… To Make Me Stronger.

Let's chat! Leave a reply...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s