Who's My Daddy?
When I watched Michelle Obama give her speech at the Democratic National Convention, the following quote spoken by Michelle toward the end of her speech had me close to tears.
"He's the same man who drove me and our new baby daughter home from the hospital ten years ago this summer, inching along at a snail's pace, peering anxiously at us in the rearview mirror, feeling the whole weight of her future in his hands, determined to give her everything he'd struggled so hard for himself, determined to give her what he never had: the affirming embrace of a father's love." [Quote from text of Michelle Obama's speech at the DNC delivered Monday, August 25, 2008.]
I grew up not knowing my biological father. I have a name my birth mom gave me, but that's all I have and that name isn't even on my birth certificate. I have no memories of my father holding me in his arms, giving me hugs and kisses or just saying that he loves me. My looks comes from my mother's side of the family, so I can't even look in a mirror to catch a glimpse of him in me.
The majority of times, I'm not sad that I don't have a father. I was fortunate to be raised by a loving aunt and uncle. I have my biological mom, who has never ceased to love me, even though she was unable to raise me. But there's those times, even at the age of 54 years that it just about breaks my heart not to know who's my daddy.
I'm so sad that my father will never know how much of a blessing I would have been in his life. I'm sad that he will never feel my arms around him as I whisper in his ears, how great a dad he is. I'm sad that he will never know his grandchildren and great grands and see how wonderful they truly are.
I love you Dad.
"He's the same man who drove me and our new baby daughter home from the hospital ten years ago this summer, inching along at a snail's pace, peering anxiously at us in the rearview mirror, feeling the whole weight of her future in his hands, determined to give her everything he'd struggled so hard for himself, determined to give her what he never had: the affirming embrace of a father's love." [Quote from text of Michelle Obama's speech at the DNC delivered Monday, August 25, 2008.]
I grew up not knowing my biological father. I have a name my birth mom gave me, but that's all I have and that name isn't even on my birth certificate. I have no memories of my father holding me in his arms, giving me hugs and kisses or just saying that he loves me. My looks comes from my mother's side of the family, so I can't even look in a mirror to catch a glimpse of him in me.
The majority of times, I'm not sad that I don't have a father. I was fortunate to be raised by a loving aunt and uncle. I have my biological mom, who has never ceased to love me, even though she was unable to raise me. But there's those times, even at the age of 54 years that it just about breaks my heart not to know who's my daddy.
I'm so sad that my father will never know how much of a blessing I would have been in his life. I'm sad that he will never feel my arms around him as I whisper in his ears, how great a dad he is. I'm sad that he will never know his grandchildren and great grands and see how wonderful they truly are.
I love you Dad.
Vanessa, I can relate to this, although probably a little differently. My biological father did not raise me and I didn't meet him until I was 18 years old. I had "Daddy" though. My mother was blessed to meet a man who married her with 4 children (her second marriage). And even when they separated, you'd better not try to tell that man that we were not his children. He would fight you. So I learned early that parenting is not a matter of biology but a matter of the heart. He died in 99 and he is surely missed. I speak to my biological father from time to time (literally), but I'm not bothered by it because I did have "Daddy". As a matter of fact, I'm sure it served its purpose. My biological father couldn't hold a candle to my daddy.
I feel you though because my daughter has "Daddy," too, but it's affecting her totally differently than it affected me. It's possibly INfecting her. Her biological father is not around (because he doesn't want to be, not because I keep him away), and at 13, I'm finally starting to experience the remnants of what it's like for her. She loves and adores her daddy, but she has this yearning to meet the man who planted her...and it has nothing to do with the man cultivating her. She really just wants to meet this man. I didn't have that yearning as a child, but it could be because I had my daddy a lot earlier. I didn't meet my husband until she was almost 9, more than old enough to know someone was missing.
Pray for us in that. I'm praying that this letter she's writing him will "reach" him in a manner that compels him to play an active role in her life. His problem is that he's mixed what happened between "us" with his responsibility and obligation to be her dad. (And the sad part is that no one did anything to HIM...he did all the dirt, but then ironically told me that he wasn't raising a baby if we weren't going to be together. How sad is that? I've found him several times over the years to see if he's grown up and has become a man...having put away childish things...but last I knew...not yet. And it's really funny in a tragic way because he's wounded in finding out that "Pa...NOT pa." The man who terrorized him as a child turns out to not be his father as he thought. His mother confesses that to him some years ago after we broke up and last I heard, still wouldn't tell him who his father is. He's saddened by that, so you would think THAT would be his motivation to make sure his daughter knows HIM. He knows what it feels like but seems totally unaffected and unmoved where she is concerned). However, I serve the God who can do ANYTHING.
Blessings to you...and my prayers...