Letters To My Daughter by Dear Dad
For over two decades I've enjoyed the most fantastic relationship with my little girl. Nothing but pure joy to Her mother and I, it was inconceivable when in a matter of weeks "what we had feared" came rushing upon us. While still close, our hearts break a dozen times a day over her abrupt change in behavior and lifestyle. Often engulfed in grief and fear, we continue to pray and trust that what sin means for evil God will turn to good.
After thousands of hours of relationship and training throughout my daughters lifetime, and many conversations concerning her recent decisions, I've found writing a helpful and hopeful release. The following represent the whole or parts of letters I written. Some I've sent, some not. All are from a heartbroken dad scanning the horizon for his daughter to come to her senses and come home...
Engraved In Our Hearts by Dear Dad
Dear Daughter,
Good morning honey. I trust you’re safe and well.
I say trust because I don’t knowing these days, something hard on me after being a hands on dad for two decades. For the better part of 7,000 mornings I slipped into your room, stepping over a cat or stuffed animals to navigate around little piles of mess on your floor. I’d stop to watch you sleep, comforted by the sound of your breathing.
I’d come back later to kiss or snuggle you awake. At first you’d pretend not to notice or at least not mind, hoping a few more minutes sleep. It was a great trade off. Eventually you’d toss, groan and grumble. Grumpy, you’d push me away but not before I was satisfied you felt safe and cared for. Those moments filled my heart with some of the best love of the day. That was us then. I miss that so much I woke up dreaming I was crying about it.
Now your grown up. Twenty one and gone. You’ve moved out to create a life of your own. Under the best of circumstances this phase of life’s hard on dotting parents. Hard enough to be called the “empty nest syndrome.” Sadly, the phrase hardly does the reality justice. Birds simply fly away to lay eggs another day. We’ve only got your older brother and you. Now and forever, just the two.
It all started innocent enough. Alone, I found someone to love, marry and eventually have children with. That’s when it happened. Kids turn you into parents. Suddenly, your not one or two but a family with lots of work to do. and and chores. Somewhere in the midst of the bills and baths, home cooked meals and homework you’ve been changed. You’re not just parenting. A parent is who you are. I was a child, then a teen. A single, then a couple. Now, with a family I’m a parent. Multiplied, important pieces are running around outside me. You feel unsettled, like a hen without its chicks under wing.
Then there’s love. Love can change you too. Of course not all chose to love to the same degree or duration. The deeper you do the more you identify with the object of your affection. You’re identity becomes immersed in, even inseparable from, that person or thing. “Two become one” and one becomes a family. Today most nuclear family’s explode, but some like ours make it through not without heartache and loss. After all it’s a battlefield out there.
Nonetheless, some stay intact. Some of these continue to develop. Those who do find the commitment of having done so deepens their ties, solidifying their love for and unity with each another. That’s why Jesus warns whatever you do or fail to do to the least of My brothers you’ve done to Me. His identification is immediate and complete. Ours grows over a lifetime of being a family.
Changing you on the sly is one of life’s little secrets. Incrementally you transform into parents. Biologically and chemically the fix is in. Who can you help but fall in love with a sweet and innocent infant? Who can resist their baby’s smile and coo, touch and laughter? Who can ignore theirs child’s tears and fears or turn a blind eye to their wants and needs? Amazingly many do. Even before today’s insidious assault against family values some did, prompting a response from the Ultimate Parent:
“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands...”
Our hands bare no scars but you’re engraved in your parents’ hearts. Which is why we’d miss you under the best circumstances. Such a wonderful daughter leaves a big whole when she begins her own life. Unfortunately, the situation is far from perfect. We grieve over recent decisions we know you’ll regret. As parents who love you we’re haunted by a bleak future we worked hard to help you avoid. A future being set in motion by choices you’re making. A future that, because we care for you, will be ours to share as well.
A future becoming the present a day at a time. Not the joyful days we imagined. Worry, longing and heavy hearts have replaced kisses, tickles and hugs. Gone are the days marked by so many happy and thoughtful talks. These days and even sometimes weeks pass without you in our lives at all except for our constant prayers for you.
Prayers so far gone unanswered.
Love Dad
Should you be interesting in submitting your own letter for consideration please contact Paying Parents at Rob@PrayingParents.org by calling (559) 305-2229.