Daddy's Girls (Written in 2018)

I dreamed a long while about what it would be like to meet you. At Grandma's house, when the afternoon sun hit the bay window just so,your picture frame would shine.You were already special to me. On the rare occasion when Daddy found reason to stay and do work for Grandma until the next day, I'd sleep on her red velvet couch and you-well, we would be each other's company against the eerie porcelain owl looming atop an ever dusty entertainment center. And years later, when Grandma got new carpet, you found a new home on her piano surrounded by family, safe. You were in the arms of extended family, more cousins and aunties that I wondered if you even knew. Sometimes I wondered the same about myself. Did you know I existed?

Daddy would drive real slow on Saturday mornings when you and the other ones were on his mind. He cried so many tears for you. Told so many stories. Desperate ones. He was never the victor, and he always lost you. Your smile on Grandma's piano, on the entertainment center, in his Christmas tin can, in his wallet..you served as his memory. You were the reminder to be present with me. He told me all these things. I couldn't have been more than seven when I realized past failures can either drive a man or drive him crazy. I was nine when I began hoping that I would be enough for him to stay. Sadly seventeen proved me otherwise.

I reached out to you on FaceBook . Virtual miles were much closer than the small city that separated us. Our lives divided for more time than I am proud to admit. You grew up fatherless and somehow seemed to have more self-esteem than I ever could. You were brave, confident, gorgeous! I loved you instantly. I paid you $85 to be in your presence, hug me, touch me, and make me beautiful like you. You were pregnant, and I was going to be an auntie. We promised with our smiles and sealed it with a hug. I wore that weave to pieces.Thought...well...finally, I am enough for someone. After, I felt I only heard from you to get to Daddy. Soon I began believing my grace, beauty and prosperity were a hard pill to swallow. A bitter truth attesting to what a life with two parents households can do. I implored, it wasn't him that made me this way. It was despite him. A special kind of guilt. Can't we find our way without the sins of the father clouding our relationship?

You canceled. You canceled every. time. i. tried. to. see. you. Lamenting to a friend, I told her how little I expected from friends or relatives, how deeply I craved someone to truly know me. Have you ever felt seen? She sighed, sounds like you need a sister she said. I never recovered from those words.

I follow you from time to time online. I love my nephew from afar watching his taste change from Paw Patrol to cars, to some other silly thing with slime. He looks like you. And, more than anything, he looks like him. I have told you this, and it makes you smile. I wish you could see how your eyes light up when you do.

It's 2018, and we get together one time...we discuss the death of our grandmother. You know so many more relatives than I do. You impress with the ease of which recall names and family gatherings, some you attended others not. I finally get the courage to tell you I survived my childhood. You smile at me...but I know you don't believe me...and again, you ask have I seen our Dad?