I try not to dwell on it, but sometimes I can’t help it. My daughters don’t have an earthly father any longer.
I know they have a Heavenly Father, and that God watches over them, and me. He is a “father to the fatherless.” And that is a comfort.
But there are times I ache for them, especially for my youngest daughter. She told me the other day (speaking about her older sister), “She had 19 years with dad, and I only had 8 years.” She will never have her dad proudly watch her graduate from 8th grade, high school or college. She will never have her dad teach her how to drive, bait a hook, or shoot a gun. Her dad won’t be there to interrogate her first date or antagonize her about her first boyfriend. Neither daughter will have their father walk them down the aisle or have the father/daughter dance at their weddings.
I guess I am getting a little melancholy because I attended my niece’s wedding this past weekend. It was a beautiful event, and our family had a good time. When it came time for the bride to dance with her dad, and my brother stepped out onto the dance floor with her, there was a small ache in knowing that my daughters wouldn’t have that opportunity. There will always and forever be something missing.
But there was a “brightening” later on in the evening. As the reception progressed and the dancing continued, more family members hit the dance floor. My youngest daughter got the chance to dance with her uncle and her grandfather. She could feel included! One of the hardest things for her, at her age when the last thing you want to feel is like an outcast, is to be left out due to not having a father. It’s been hard enough the last few years when her class at school would do some craft or remembrance for Father’s Day.
Watching my dad teach his youngest granddaughter the box step on the dance floor that night reminded me that she will be OK. We will all be OK. God is faithful, and He provides. We have loving extended family that do their best to mentor and love the girls. Even though things haven’t been the same for the past three years, and honestly will never be the way they were, we carry one and make the most of what we have been given.
For more articles/reflections on grief and loss; you can check out my previous blog: Psalms 68:5 – Restoral