Wednesday, April 22, 2009

To Dad:

Hi Daddy.
It will soon be my 21st birthday; I wish you were here to spend it with me. I wish that you would understand that I need you in my life, that I want to walk with you down the street, hold your hand and smile up at you like I once did sixteen years ago.
I already forgave you.
Now inside my heart I want to hold you and call you Daddy. Who knows if that day will ever come.

This is what I wrote during a Spanish class; I should have been listening, but my mind seemed consumed with finding him and knowing him as a daughter should.

However, my amazing Father gave me a great image on a night when I felt so alone; he gave me that same image I longed for: being held by the hand, and not walking down a street, but walking by the ocean (my favorite place) and to mind came this:

My God has called me daughter
there is nothing more precious to me
than the way he holds my hand
and draws me near

I can't describe what it means to feel that kind of love; to have it wrap around you. The closest I can get is how heat envelops you during summer and how you can't seem to escape it. That's how it feels, and I'll admit, there is nothing I'd have instead.

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