I have been told:
that my first word is “da-da”;
that when I was a baby/toddler, I knew the sound of my dad’s car when he would return home from work and that I would crawl down the stairs (backwards) calling out loud, ”da-da” and meeting him at the door;
and that I used to wear my dad’s shirt as a child while he was away over-seas (in the Navy) just so that I can have his “scent” near me.
I guess you can say that I have always been “daddy’s little girl”. My love for my dad is a reflection of the love and affection that he has given to me through the years.
Yes, we had our difficult times and our share of misunderstandings, but we still love each other very much.
I love the fact that his face lights up with the thought of his children and grandchildren
visiting and/or calling him.
My dad continues to show his love each time he visits my girl’s grave site and gives them flesh flowers weekly. I know that he would have loved and adored my children as much as me, maybe more.
I will always be grateful to my dad, for his time and unconditional love.
This posting is a continuation of the previous post and was originally published and sent by email on June 13, 2008.
