The Romance Reviews

The Romance Reviews

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Happy Father's Day - 6/17/12

I woke up this morning to a text from my daughter wishing me a Happy Father's Day. I, in effect, left her father before she was born, though the legalities would suggest otherwise as my divorce was not official for some months afterward.

Looking back on her childhood, I can honestly say that I wish I had done a better job at raising her. I wish I had been able to provide for her the kind of home life that I was lucky to have. I'm not saying our lives were unstable during those years -- we had a roof over our heads, clothing on our backs and food in our tummy but I sincerely believe that she missed out and I take full responsibility for that.

Those years were hard, but we had a lot of laughs and we did a lot of crying. We also grew up together. Like every parent and child, we have faced some challenges and continue to do so, but I am very proud of the woman she has become. Plus, she gifted me with my little man!

I often mention my Dad. The pain of his loss still lingers. Someone once put it very simply to me. He said:

"This kind of pain is like arthritis. Sometimes you have good days; and sometimes you have bad days. You've just got to keep going. He wouldn't have it any other way."

He was right.

I think of my Dad every single day. It is now 2,467 days since he's been gone.

He was my daughter's de facto father. I know she too feels his loss. He used to spoil her. The memory that is most vivid in my mind right now is the one of the day he spent shopping with her. One Easter holiday, he took her shopping for an outfit.

He had previously volunteered to drive her around to do that. She must have been about 10 or 11 years old; maybe a little younger. She already had an image in her mind for the outfit she wanted to wear. But, she still had to stop at every single store along their route to see what the pickin's were; only to end up at the first store they had visited. After all of that, my Dad stood beside her as she paid for the first outfit she had laid eyes on in the first store they had stopped in.

My daughter and I often recall that story. We always crack up laughing and I always end up with tears in the corners of my eyes.

Yea. He was Superman alright! I would have been pissed off if she had done that to me and he just supported her in her quest for the perfect outfit. Not a single complaint came out of his mouth to her.

When he later recounted his shopping jaunt to me, his frustration escalated as he told the story. In the end, he just laughed it off, saying:

"Typical woman!"

Since my father's death, I've often thought about how he would feel about my newfound passion for writing. I can only hope he would be proud. While I sit here and type out this post, my heart beats a little faster. I struggle with the sting building up in my nose and the tears that burn in the corner of my eyes now threatening to break through the dam.

All I want is to smell his essence, I want to put on some bright red lipstick. I want to kiss his bald spot. I desperately want to hear his voice again, even if it's just to hear him tell me to "stop doing that shit!" ... those are the words he would use. And, I want to watch him as he shakes his head to and fro in either utter annoyance or total disbelief that I would be so silly.

Finally, I want to make him laugh out loud and I want to give him a bear hug.

Ay Papi! I miss you so much! I don't think I'll ever stop hurting.

To all my friends who are fathers, both men and women, Happy Father's Day!

Enjoy today as it is in your honor. But don't forget the indelible memories you have etched -- and will continue to etch -- in the hearts of those who call you "Father."



  1. Wonderful post, Minnie. He watches over you always, never doubt that!

  2. Thank you Joe! You know what I'm talking have a Superman of your own! :)

  3. Hey there,

    You referred me to your blog this evening and, whilst sitting on the floor outside my daughter's bedroom door waiting for her to FINALLY go to sleep, I read this blog post. I must apologise for I feel your post is a celebration of life, of the precious role of a father and the wonderful memories of a very, very special person, and yet, I am sat here crying.

    What a beautiful dedication and I am certain your father couldn't be anything but incredibly proud of your passion for writing and your ability to make someone smile, laugh and cry all in one post.

    I never experienced such a relationship but I watch my daughter have it with her father and I wonder what it must be like to have that tower of strength, that hero, that big bear watching out for you. I am very lucky because seeing my daughter have it with her father helps to fill those painful gaps for me. You want the best for your children don't you and it sounds to me like your daughter had that with a perfect combination of your love and courage and your father's special touch.

    Thank goodness nobody can take away our love and our memories for through these the spirit of our loved ones always lives on.

    Thank you for asking me to read and I am so glad I did. Sorry for the exceptionally long comment, I am a bit of a rambler.

    Jess :-)

  4. Oh Jess,

    My heart aches for you. You know, there are things I wish(ed) for and pray(ed) for but seeing that the things I wanted are now enjoyed by the ones I love most -- my daughter; my grandson -- my need and/or desire for those things has diminished. I mean, think about it. What could be better than to see that your children are happy?

    I don't think you're a rambler. It takes a lot of words to express oneself in just the right way.

    Thank you for your visit. I hope you come back often!

    I'll see you on Twitter!! :)