Daddy's girl

I was seriously a daddy's girl. That's me on the left with my Daddy, brother, and sister.  I loved being with my Daddy.  One of his hobbies is doing bodywork on cars.  When I was a kid I remember being right by his side as he worked on cars. He taught me the names of the tools and I would fetch them for him.  We'd make trips to the auto shops.  I loved sitting on those padded bar stools that most auto part stores had.

With time, I learned to apply and sand Bond-O.  That stuff smelled so good to me. My favorite vehicle we worked on was a '57 Chevy truck. He painted it white.  It was beautiful. I remember so many details-the rubber tubes over the chain on the tailgate, the colorful woven fabric for the interior upholstery, and rounded back fenders. He still has that truck.

I am an early riser too.  My Daddy left for work fairly early. I was up before dawn, sometimes before him. I'd watch as he did morning exercises, smoke his first cigarette for the day, and ate breakfast.  He'd kiss me bye as he left the house.

Daddy loved junk.  He took us kids to the junkyard and the dump.  BEST DAY EVER.  Getting to go to the dump was awesome for a kid. We'd find all sorts of treasures, totally confused why people would throw away such valuable things.  We salvaged a see-saw once. Daddy painted it bright red.  Now it sits in our backyard, some 30 years later.

Sadly, my world came crashing down when my parents divorced. I was no longer able to spend as much time with my Daddy.  It broke my heart. It was painful. It was crushing.

As an innocent child, I didn't understand what was happening to my family.  I didn't know why things had to be the way they were.  Daddy was able to stay close for a few years but then was transferred to a town about 2 hours away.  About two weekends a month we spent with him.

Then things changed.

I felt like I was no longer Daddy's little girl.  I guess I wasn't. I hated that feeling. That was one of my most outstanding and comfortable roles in life. My life was less and less apart of his. His was less and less apart of mine. Anger and bitterness nearly ruined any chance for things to improve.

It took years before our relationship improved. And it has.

Now, as the mother of two girls, I watch as they are daddy's girls.  My husband is such a great dad.  He loves his girls so much.  It is pretty much amazing.

My husband is a big and tough dude.  It surprises me how much of a softy he is with his girls.  He can be such a push over for them, easily hypnotised by the batting of their eyes. He melts as the sound of their voices. It is awesome. 

According to him, my daughter will be Baptist nuns and will never go on a date or to prom.  They will never need bras and won't wear lipstick. They will not be allowed to drive. We won't ever be grandparents. I just nod my head like he is so right and wise.  Secretly I am thinking, "Whatever."