Today the only man I ever considered my "daddy" and I planned on having walk me down the aisle, passed away. He was 46. My own father never wanted me and believe me, I knew it. My "daddy" loved spending time with me, called me on my birthdays, bought me Christmas presents, and always told me he loved me. I can't recall my real father doing anything like that, ever, in all of my 21 years. Even when he lived 4 houses down the road from me, I was lucky if he honked his horn as he drove past. My "daddy" wasn't a perfect man, but he was the greatest to me simply because he loved me for who I was.
I don't believe in a Heaven and so I don't feel like I'll ever see him again, but that's fine with me, it'd be ridiculous to give myseluf false hope in ever seeing a loved one after their death. I have plenty of great memories to remember him by.
I apologize for any errors in this post, I haven't been home much today, so I wrote this on my phone while at my "daddy's" house.
RiP David "Mother-Fucking" Summerlin
Oh, Katie -- I don't really know you, I've just been coming to your blog for the last few weeks, but I couldn't read this without commenting in some way. It sounds like David was a great man, and it sounds like he helped you become a great woman (although it seems you were going to become a great woman regardless).
ReplyDeleteThanks, I appreciate that, really, I do.
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