By: Penny <>
Sat Oct 11 23:28:05 1997
My Daddy
with love from your adopted daughter
By Penny
Location: Grand Junction Colorado US

Age:[ 49 ] Gender:[ F ]

Comments: I'm happily married to John, have 3 beautiful children, 4 delightful grandchildren and I value every minute and try to see things more positive now. There's a reason for everything.

	I miss my daddy. My daddy died in January 1985. We were very
close. He and my mom adopted me when I was 2-weeks old. He is the only
daddy I know. One day, while he was sitting in his chair reading a
photography magazine (that was his hobby), his left arm started to feel
numb and my mom called the doctor. They called me and I came right over.

	As I drove up, the ambulance was just pulling away from the house. 
I followed the ambulance to the hospital and the medical team put my daddy
in the cardiac care uni t.  Soon he recovered enough to be moved from ICU
to his own room. I visited everyday, taking my mom up to visit because she
has never learned to drive. One day I ask him if there was anything he
needed me to bring up to the hospital and he said, "Could yo u bring my
black slippers. They said I might get to walk alittle today!" I brought
the slippers on my next visit. It was friday night and he was sitting up
in bed when I came into the room. He smiled and we joked and talked and he
seemed to be doing so mu ch better. 

	I was glad. I gave him a kiss and said I would see him in the
morning. My mom said, "go ahead and take the weekend and spend some time
with the kids. You've been driving me back and forth and coming down two,
three times a day, do something with t he kids." She was right, I had been
ignoring my kids alittle. I knew they understood but all the discussions
and updates still wasn't the same as me being there to hear about what had
happened at school etc. I took the kids out in the mountains and we hik ed
and laughed and had a good time because deep down in my heart, my daddy
was doing much better.

	Monday morning I was awakened by the phone. My mom was calling to
say my daddy had passed away. "How could he do that!" were my first words.
"I didn't get to say goodbye! He didn't wait for me! I was going to go up
there to visit in a couple of hours!" I hung up the phone. I don't
remember sending my children off to school but I guess I did. I went to my
mom's house and she smiled when I came in. "How can you be smiling! Daddy
is gone! He'll never come back! I didn't get to say goodbye! I didn't get
to tell him about the cold crystal clear water in the creek where we went

	I didn't get to tell him I found the perfect place for him to take
a picture of an old pine tree still grasping small pinecones in it's
branches! How can you smile?"  She looked me in the eye and said, "Your
daddy is with God now. He no longer suffers.  He is with his sister and
brother now, in heaven. He hasn't seen them for many years a nd they are
all exchanging conversations." That all made sense but it couldn't stop
repeating, "I never got to say goodbye." 

	The doctors later told us that when he got up to use the bathroom
that morning, his heart exploded. The walls were like tissue pap er and
when he got up the sudden surge of blood to the heart just basically blew
out the walls. Needless to say, I cried for weeks and months. I had to be
strong for my children but on the other hand, my weakness at times helped
them to know that it was a lri ght to be weak. My mom kept up a pretty
good front but in private she weeped, too.

	One day I came over and out of the blue she said, "You're not my
daughter. We adopted you and we took very good care of you but your over
21 and on your own with your own c hildren so I think my 'job' is done." I
was shocked! I was being tossed aside. All of her saddness had turned to
anger and I was the first one she took it all out on. We began to argue
because I was hurt, angry, confused and most of all, upset because my
daddy wasn't there to defend me. She would never have said this if he were
still here!

	I wondered if she had only been putting up a front because of my
daddy? How long had she felt this way? I wanted my daddy back. I needed to
feel his arms around me and to hear him tell me how much he loved me and
how I was choosen and how excited he was when the adoption agency had
called and said they had a baby girl waiting for them.  Why did he have to
leave? A few days after this confrontation with my mom, I was sudd enl y
awoke by my daddy's voice. It was as clear as a bell. I opened my eyes and
looked around the darkness of night in my bedroom. 

	At the foot of my bed was a cloudy white form. My daddy had come
back but only for an instant. He said, "Something is wrong her e," and
then disappeared. I wanted to tell him what had happened and I wanted him
to stay but he was gone. I lay in bed for hours thinking about what he had
said. Yes, there was something wrong here. I got up and wrote my mom a 32
page letter telling her how I felt about them as parents, how special I
felt that they had adopted me, how sorry I was, etc. I drove over to her
house and gave her the letter and left. It wasn't instant but shortly, a
few months later, she called and we talked just like in the o ld days. 

	She explained how she was having a hard time staying in the house
that she and my daddy had lived in and she was moving to another state to
be near her sister. I helped her pack for moving and tried to convince her
to stay but she left anyway. Pr ese ntly, she wishes she had never left.
She calls and tells us how much she wishes she stilled lived here. She
missed the birth of her great-grandchildren and she misses her friends. 
You can't live somewhere for 40 years and then suddenly move and not miss
t he things you knew so well. My mom is starting to show signs of paranoid
behavior and frequently thinks someone is trying to get her but at least
we call each other and are back as mother and daughter. 

	It's been 12 years since my daddy 'left' and I miss h im dearly. I
still feel like somewhere or somehow I will see him in the back yard
mowing the grass or trimming the rosebush. I still ask myself why he had
to 'leave' before I said goodbye. I ask the minister at the funeral, "My
daddy was such a loving fat her and grandfather. Why does God take all the
good people and leave the others here?" He said, "That is why it is called
'Heaven' It's full of good people. God doesn't let just anyone in. He
choses the best to be with Him and that is why we all have to d o t he
best we can while we are here." This was very reassuring and I understand
it much better as time goes by. My daddy, we all miss you but we will see
you one day. When we do see you, I won't have to say goodbye but rather,
hello! I miss you. I love you!  

-- Penny . . . [ ]

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