My Father was a great man. He was hardworking and a great provider who hailed from Mississippi. I asked him one day why he chose to live in our hometown of Peoria. He told me he wanted his children to have a better life. He did not want his children to go through the things he went through. What I gleaned from that conversation is he had a hard life.
Later in life, my Father shared that his mother passed away when he was eight. She left seven children and a husband behind. If you read my previous post, Motherless Daughter, you will see that my Father and I shared the same experience as children. We both lost our mothers as children. My Father was a little bit older but, like me, still needed his mother.
In another conversation, my Father shared that when he was seventeen years old, his Father remarried and moved up north. He told me his Father left him and his younger siblings in Mississippi. Shortly after that, my Father decided to move up north as well. He spent some time in Chicago but said it was too rough there, so he made Peoria his permanent home.
Peoria is also where he met my mother, the love of his life. They married after my mother graduated from high school. She was eighteen, and he was twenty. From their union were born seven children, six boys, and one girl. Sadly, their marriage ended fourteen years later due to my mother’s death.
Although our life was great before my Father remarried, it was also challenging, especially since my mother was not there to help guide us.
My Father was called to Pastor before he remarried. That call would make life even more challenging. My Father was physically present but not in other ways because he was gone most of the time, tending to the congregation or other ministry needs.
It didn’t really hit me until writing this post that our experiences were similar. My Father and I experienced death and abandonment as children. His mother passed away, and his Father abandoned his children physically by leaving them in Mississippi. My mother passed away, and my Father abandoned his children by choosing the congregation’s needs over those of his children.
I love my Father, and we bonded on a very special level. Still, a daughter needs things from her Father, like a hug, encouragement, or Father-daughter time. Daughters also need their fathers to tell them about men, what to expect and how men operate. I did not get any of those things from my Father.
I longed for my Father like my mother but in a different way. I needed my Father to see me. I needed my Father to show some interest in me, not just when it was time to discipline me. From what I remember, that is the only time my Father was fully present. I will say it again; daughters need their fathers.
Fathers are a daughter’s, first love. The way fathers treat their daughters is what daughters will be used to when they are women. My Father was a great provider and Pastor, for which I am forever grateful. Still, I had emotional needs that went unmet. Sometimes I believe my Father treated me like he treated his sons, especially when it came to allowing emotions to show.
Although I married an amazing man who is a great provider, like my Father, he does not meet my emotional needs. Unfortunately, I am used to not having those needs met because of how I was raised.
Also, in most cases, the kind of relationship you have with your earthly Father is the kind of relationship you will have with your heavenly Father. I am a living witness. I knew God was real, but our relationship was distant. I did not think I could share anything with Him, and when I prayed, I hoped He would listen. I am so thankful for the relationship we have now. I know He is fully present in my life and will never forsake or abandon me. I also know how much He loves and adores me. I am His favorite.
A Daughter Who Needed Her Daddy
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