When I hear the story of how my father “chin-checked” my step-father over spanking me when I was 3 years old, I feel special. I feel like a “daddy’s girl” – even today as a woman in my fifties.
Every year I think about the time I lost with my father. Would he be proud of who I am today. How much am I like him? Would we get along?
If my relationship with my two brothers is any indication – I would most likely be s daddy’s girl. My brothers treat me like their queen.
My father was shot and killed in 1977 at the age of 39. I was 12 years old and had moved away from Connecticut the year prior. I didn’t know until 2009.
This post is for anyone who has a tough time celebrating Father’s Day because of undesired separation or their biological father is unknown.
I understand…you are in my prayers.