Father to Daughter

I was feeling off the last couple of weeks and I didn’t know why. Yes, there is a massive change on the horizon of my life, but I am processing that methodically. This was something else… Then it hit me when I posted the photo of me with my father for Cee’s Black and White Challenge last week —it’s been ten years since I lost him. It was February of 2009.  

I was blessed to be a beloved daughter, and Papa was my first hero. I called him Papa instead of Dad or Daddy —his choice, he wanted to be different. He was a story-teller, too. I marvel at what a vivid imagination he had.  He made up a whole series of adventures involving our neighbor’s cat:  Mopsy, and another one with a little old man and a cuckoo clock that always saved the day. And most of the time, he made them up on demand: “Tell me a story, Papa!” I remember traveling in Scotland with my parents when I was about six years old and passing a desolate stretch of land with these strange formations: bigger than mounds, smaller than hills. As we drove along, Papa made up a story about how it was a “Giant’s Graveyard” and the events that led to all the giants dying. Alright, that’s pretty morbid, I suppose, but I remember being completely engrossed in the story and begging for more. Oh, how I wish I’d recorded some of those wonderful tales he created for me when I was little.

He didn’t live long enough to see me become a writer. He would have loved knowing that he passed that ‘gift’ on to me. It’s just one of the many ways that I am my father’s daughter.

Something so sweet…

Recently, I had one of those days. There was no special significance to that day but I found myself missing my father so badly. 

My father was a lawyer. He practiced estate and family law. The good kind of family law: adoptions, wills and trusts. The kind of law that takes care of people, doesn’t tear them apart.

Tonight, I met someone who was helped by my father. A man, who with his wife, adopted a baby boy 30 years ago. The man was so grateful for my father’s help, he named his baby boy for him!  The coincidences that led me to meeting this man are too convoluted to relate, but the fact that we crossed paths is truly amazing.

My father has a namesake. It is not my child – I have no children. And yet, my heart is so touched right now. I feel like I’ve been given a little gift. Knowing how much he meant to someone- to name their child for him.  It’s something so sweet.