I Hate Father's Day...

Father's Day.

Used to be a day when I'd go out and find a card and a present. Heh...dads. Men. They're so difficult to buy for.
We'd usually buy him a tie.
Socks.
A shirt.
Then this "Best Dad in the World" mug. Blue and white thick stripes with a "Forever Friends" bear face on the front with this blue bow tie.


Then I grew older.

I realised that my Mom had a lot of truth in what she said to my dad. I realised a lot of Dad's faults - and they weren't "general weak" faults. It grew harder to find a card for a man that wasn't...a real good daddy. But that showed caring and respect without eulogising him above the stars.

Then everything exploded three years ago.

I wasn't buying cards any more. I wasn't buying presents any more. Suddenly, I didn't even have a daddy any more. My flight lieutenant was the closest father figure I had and was very supportive during that time.

But I had to handle Dad's birthday. People wanting his very existence cleared from the planet.
And my heart was very sore.
Because every little girl is a Daddy's girl.

I was when I was younger. Then I kinda realised who he was. (Sorta.) Then I struggled to last on my own without a father figure. And I've kinda patched together an existence without him. I had to manage without a true father's influence from early teens. Then I had to get through the last part of my teens without him and everyone wishing him dead.

So it's been difficult figuring out ways to cope with it. Without bursting into tears when you hear other girls talking about their dad in a loving, appreciating way. When hearing them talk to him. When watching a dad reach out and touch his daughter's shoulder or hair, or hug her close lovingly.

I hate Father's Day. I wish...sometimes. I wish people would spare a thought for the girls without fathers today. For the girls who sit there and watch loving father-daughter interaction with sad, or hurting, or angry, or tearful eyes and watch for the girls that turn quickly away and watch for the girls with the blank faces.

For the girls whose fathers are dead and the girls whose fathers abused them and the girls who never knew who their father was and the girls with bad fathers.

I guess maybe it's a good way to reach past my shrinking from Father's Day. To see other girls hurting from this. To understand other people's broken hearts. To write this and share a few shards from my heart so others understand.

Don't...pity me.
God uses bad for good.

I can see the shards of other's hearts. I can feel their pain.

I can know that God is very close to the widow and the orphan today and I can know He's holding my broken pieces.

I can be so thankful that I can see good men even if I don't trust them, and know that someday, perhaps, someday, I might maybe have daughters whose father will love them truly and well and right.
That there will be girls who can know what I cannot.

I pray so. I pray God will put father figures into these girls' and boys' lives. Father figures who know that they are broken and will pray them back to healing.

Thanks to the good guys out there. It's hard to see you but I know you're there. Thanks to the guys who are growing into good men who have prayed me and many others through this.
Happy Father's Day.
Happy future Father's Day.

God bless.
Mademoiselle Siân