By Whitney......
I wrote the following post on my personal blog in February 2009. It is difficult for me to go back and see where my heart was at that time, in the midst of what was a horrible time with Daddy. He was drinking so much then and the more he drank, the more belligerent and abusive he became. Sadly, I didn't begin to understand his true feelings until I found his writings after his death and realized that he had absolutely no control over his craving for alcohol. But when you have been inundated over and over with the same lies, the same abuse and the same threats, you tend to build a wall around your own heart and that is exactly the point I was at in early 2009. Daddy's Valentine cards simply provided more of the same abuse I had dealt with my whole life.
February, 2009
My father sent me a Valentine.
My father always sends me and my little sister a Valentine card. This year was no exception. Only this time, a more appropriate name for my Valentine, would be "Guilt Trip In A Pink Envelope." My Valentine was filled with "guilt trip" stuff because I haven't spoken to my dad in 7 months. Stormi's Valentine was intended to make her feel equally bad. You see, my dad is not quite the dad Stormi and I wish we had. We want the cool daddy who loves us and wants to be with us. We want to be "daddy's little girls" and have the protection of a father upon whom we can always depend. While we know that will never happen, that is the dad we dream of. Not the dad who is drunk, abusive, and is never, ever at fault about anything. Not the daddy who would much rather have some more whisky than be part of our lives. That is the father we have. And that, my friends, is our reality. While it has been this way our entire lives, it still hurts us. I am totally out of line here, speaking for my baby sister as I am, but I know she feels the same way. It's like we have our own special "club" that neither one of us really want to be in, but due to circumstances beyond our control, we had to join. And yet, we are thankful that we are not the only member because in our club, you really need someone to understand you. Stormi and I understand each other.
I never remember having a "sober" daddy and I am pretty sure Stormi doesn't either. As a matter of fact, what I do remember, other than the abuse, was telling people when I was in elementary school that my daddy was dead. The problem with that is that sooner or later he shows up at the school (usually drunk) and everyone knows you are not telling the truth. And kids don't understand that you didn't mean to actually lie to them but that you are in self preservation mode and are just trying not to be ashamed of your father. How could they know this? I never even knew why I said that until I was grown. Stormi is actually a lot more mature about the whole situation than me. But guess what? Maturity doesn't make you hurt any less.
Yesterday I told my mother-in-law that even though I appear to be perfectly fine on the outside, inside me there is a little girl who wants her daddy. And the hardest thing ever is realizing that the daddy I want, crave, and desire to have, is the daddy that my father is incapable of being. He just cannot do it. I can wish all I want, but he cannot or will not change. I have accepted this, but it doesn't make it any easier.
But here is where I do think that Stormi and I are lucky. I have my Pop, who is amazing and takes awesome care of me, and my dear Big Bob, who never fails to gives me a big hug and lets me kiss his bald spot every time I see him. Stormi has Larry (and what a fine man he is!), Brian (who loves her just like he loves our boys) and now Biggies (whom I also adore). We also have Danny, who is the best "big brother" ever and who is always there for us no matter what. These are real men. These are men we can depend on. These are men who deserve our love and respect. These are men who are proud for us to be their little girls. And these are the men we love with all our hearts. And so we read our Valentine cards from our "real" daddy and they make us sad because it always seems that he has an agenda and that never changes. But maybe, just maybe, we can look deep into our hearts and believe that he does love us, not in the way we want, but in the only way he can, and that is why we even received cards from him. I know that Stormi and I are fine. We have each other and I will always be grateful to my father for the gift of my baby sister. We also have Brian and Mikey. We are loved by a great number of friends and family, cherished by our husbands, and blessed with many father figures in our lives. Biology makes a man a father......but love is what makes a real man a "daddy".
And so, my father sent me a Valentine. And I am okay.
I wrote the following post on my personal blog in February 2009. It is difficult for me to go back and see where my heart was at that time, in the midst of what was a horrible time with Daddy. He was drinking so much then and the more he drank, the more belligerent and abusive he became. Sadly, I didn't begin to understand his true feelings until I found his writings after his death and realized that he had absolutely no control over his craving for alcohol. But when you have been inundated over and over with the same lies, the same abuse and the same threats, you tend to build a wall around your own heart and that is exactly the point I was at in early 2009. Daddy's Valentine cards simply provided more of the same abuse I had dealt with my whole life.
February, 2009
My father sent me a Valentine.
My father always sends me and my little sister a Valentine card. This year was no exception. Only this time, a more appropriate name for my Valentine, would be "Guilt Trip In A Pink Envelope." My Valentine was filled with "guilt trip" stuff because I haven't spoken to my dad in 7 months. Stormi's Valentine was intended to make her feel equally bad. You see, my dad is not quite the dad Stormi and I wish we had. We want the cool daddy who loves us and wants to be with us. We want to be "daddy's little girls" and have the protection of a father upon whom we can always depend. While we know that will never happen, that is the dad we dream of. Not the dad who is drunk, abusive, and is never, ever at fault about anything. Not the daddy who would much rather have some more whisky than be part of our lives. That is the father we have. And that, my friends, is our reality. While it has been this way our entire lives, it still hurts us. I am totally out of line here, speaking for my baby sister as I am, but I know she feels the same way. It's like we have our own special "club" that neither one of us really want to be in, but due to circumstances beyond our control, we had to join. And yet, we are thankful that we are not the only member because in our club, you really need someone to understand you. Stormi and I understand each other.
I never remember having a "sober" daddy and I am pretty sure Stormi doesn't either. As a matter of fact, what I do remember, other than the abuse, was telling people when I was in elementary school that my daddy was dead. The problem with that is that sooner or later he shows up at the school (usually drunk) and everyone knows you are not telling the truth. And kids don't understand that you didn't mean to actually lie to them but that you are in self preservation mode and are just trying not to be ashamed of your father. How could they know this? I never even knew why I said that until I was grown. Stormi is actually a lot more mature about the whole situation than me. But guess what? Maturity doesn't make you hurt any less.
Yesterday I told my mother-in-law that even though I appear to be perfectly fine on the outside, inside me there is a little girl who wants her daddy. And the hardest thing ever is realizing that the daddy I want, crave, and desire to have, is the daddy that my father is incapable of being. He just cannot do it. I can wish all I want, but he cannot or will not change. I have accepted this, but it doesn't make it any easier.
But here is where I do think that Stormi and I are lucky. I have my Pop, who is amazing and takes awesome care of me, and my dear Big Bob, who never fails to gives me a big hug and lets me kiss his bald spot every time I see him. Stormi has Larry (and what a fine man he is!), Brian (who loves her just like he loves our boys) and now Biggies (whom I also adore). We also have Danny, who is the best "big brother" ever and who is always there for us no matter what. These are real men. These are men we can depend on. These are men who deserve our love and respect. These are men who are proud for us to be their little girls. And these are the men we love with all our hearts. And so we read our Valentine cards from our "real" daddy and they make us sad because it always seems that he has an agenda and that never changes. But maybe, just maybe, we can look deep into our hearts and believe that he does love us, not in the way we want, but in the only way he can, and that is why we even received cards from him. I know that Stormi and I are fine. We have each other and I will always be grateful to my father for the gift of my baby sister. We also have Brian and Mikey. We are loved by a great number of friends and family, cherished by our husbands, and blessed with many father figures in our lives. Biology makes a man a father......but love is what makes a real man a "daddy".
And so, my father sent me a Valentine. And I am okay.