Daddy's Girl

Obviously, this is a week of serious reflection for me. One thing I keep thinking about is that old saying of how girls tend to marry someone who reminds them of their dad.

My mom used to say that Duckie reminded her of my dad when they were first married. Quiet, reserved, a little odd – LOL. I never really saw any similarities between them. Even looking back now, I still can’t find much that they had in common.

I was lying in bed last night thinking about all the boys I’ve been involved with since March and trying to pinpoint things they had in common with my dad, if any. Not too many of them but there are a few who were either handy like my dad or super intelligent.

Many of them have been tall like my dad – HA! Maybe that’s where I get my height thing. To the day he died, there was no better feeling than being hugged by my dad and feeling dwarfed by him or having to stand on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

Maybe I need to spend some time thinking about the qualities I loved about my dad and start looking for those qualities in my boys.

It’s weird. As this week progresses, and actually for about the last month, I’ve been having “flashbacks” so to speak of the week leading up to his suicide and the weeks after. Things I had forgotten or never processed or things I was in too much shock to really comprehend. It’s a very odd sensation to be reliving this.

I badly want to write about that day. To dissect it in detail. To put myself back in the moment. When I start to remember it, I can remember the most minute details – the feel of the grass pressing into my palms as I sat on the curb crying in the parking lot, the feel of the neighbors linoleum floor pressing into my knees as I sat on the floor with my arms wrapped around my mom’s waist to keep her from running out the door to go see my dad, the way my screams sounded when I got there and my brother in law told me he’d just heard the gunshot, the look on Leo’s face when we told him what had happened, the smell of the hospital room they took us in to see my dad’s body.

I don’t know if I can. It would be healthy I think. I just don’t know if I’m ready to open those floodgates yet.

Miranda

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