It’s the little things that seem to trigger an emotion. Never makes any sense.
Last week my mom sent me a picture of my dad working. It was post retirement when he was doing consulting work for Pittsburgh. It’s a great photo.
Today I happened to look at that picture and started crying. My amazing daddy. Such a good man, a faithful man, a man of God. He loves me so deeply and unconditionally. It’s probably easy to say I am his favorite and that he has put he on this pedestal that no one can reach.
I looked at the photo and thought “oh my sweet daddy” and cried. He’s my dad, but he’s not. Biology doesn’t change the fact he’s my daddy and always will be but I am not biologically his. I am not his daughter, but I am.
It’s so fucked up. I think what hurts me most is knowing that if he knew the truth it would kill him; literally kill him of a broken heart. I have no doubts about that. I am so broken and sad because of him. How could my mom do this to him. He didn’t and doesn’t deserve this. I ache for him. For the betrayal of him and the heart ache I am protecting him from.
Sometimes the burden is too much, too hard. But for him, I carry it. I love you daddy.
Leave a comment