Daddy

I wish I knew what it was like to have a father that dotes on you. I wish I knew what it felt like to enter a room and see your daddy and put your arms up and be wanted… to climb into his lap and be cuddled and desired and loved. I have no concept of that. My father is dead but even when he was alive I had no idea what it was liked to be accepted and loved. No, I’m not on a self-pity spree. It’s just facts. I think he loved me… no, I KNOW he did, but he just didn’t know HOW to love because he wasn’t shown quality love by his family.

I have imagined sometimes what it would be like to have someone adore you… a father I mean. Once, a long time ago, I imagined what it would be like to have Bruce Springsteen as a dad (and he’s probably younger than me.) What would it be like to have a father whose face lights up when you enter the room, whose whole personality softens up when you say, “Daddy,” who cares what you think or if you’re going to go to college or what’s going on in your life, who thinks you’re special? I can barely imagine it.

Once, when my father was in the throes of the Alzheimer’s Disease, I called my house and a strange man answered the phone. I was a bit non-plussed and I said, “Dad?” and he answered, “No… I wish I was, young lady,” and he sounded so nice and so kind that I almost said, “I wish you were too. He got my mom. He was some sort of visitor or something (not dating my mom or anything) and I wondered what it would be like if mom dated somebody who ended up being crazy about me and felt almost disloyal for wishing she would.

I wish I had a dad that loved me, that doted on me that thought I was special and was better than dirt. My dad was constantly disappointed in me. He told me he thought I was a loser and he always made it clear that I didn’t measure up in so many ways. Ever since I can remember I felt rejected and anxious whenever I was around him. What I think is happening now and has happened over the years with my therapist is that he has knowingly or unknowingly sort of filled that paternal role in some ways but he can never fill it completely and can certainly never dote on me. He can, however, at least be a safe paternal male that I can talk to week after week and who can give me solid non-sexual guidance. I’m so glad I, at least, have him.