Daddy's Girl

He would be proud of me. I wish I could call him and tell him how I'm doing at the gym. I wish he could call me and tell me how he's impressed with the progress I'm making and how strong I'm getting. I wish he could've seen me dance for the first time in June.

Whenever Dad was proud of any of us, he would make a bunch of phone calls and tell everybody the exciting news whatever it happened to be. He loved to brag on all of us.

When I was a young girl, and I messed up on my flute solo and had to start over, he just praised me with tears in his eyes for how I handled myself when I made a mistake. I was always the most beautiful princess in the crowd to him. He respected me as a mother.

I never knew what a treasure it was to have a dad who believed in me.  I never knew how much I would miss his praise. I never knew how much I would miss finding out that he had been talking about me or my family to his brothers or cousins or friends at church. He would even brag on us to nurses and doctors when he had an appointment or was admitted.

I'm just really missing him, missing his attention, missing his kind encouraging words; but more than anything, I am so deeply grateful that I had a dad that loved me that much, and that he was the kind of dad that is missed dearly after he's gone.