I had almost given up hope of seeing him again. Not of physically seeing him. He lives in Abilene, which is less than two hours from where I live. I had almost given up hope of seeing the man that I have adored as long as I can remember. My daddy.
I really don’t know how to explain what I mean. Except to say that I had been feeling for quite some time that I had already lost my daddy. He has been married to a woman for over thirty-two years. A woman who has resented my relationship with my daddy. A woman who at one time told my daddy that he had to choose between his wife and his daughter. And then daddy had a stroke a few years ago. And then another. And it seemed as if he did choose. Which was hard. Really hard. And incredibly sad. A man shouldn’t have to choose between his wife and his daughter. He should be able to have good relationships with both.
But yesterday, for the first time in a long time, it was different. I’m not sure why. Or what has changed. But I saw my daddy again. And for that, I am grateful. I have missed him more than I can express.