A taste of FAITH, a touch of LAUGHTER.
This affected me deeply. I commented in the original blog…….
My own father and I have a complicated history. He hung the moon for me as a little girl. He played in the floor, tickled, gave me little gifts. We went on “dates” together to get icecream or donuts and hot chocolate.
Then something happened about when I hit first grade. I did not understand it. I blamed myself at first. He became angry. Even violent. He scared me. He stopped showing affection or love or joy. Gone. He was gone. Unreachable. And he never came back.
We lived in the same house but I barely knew that man. I could not bring myself to call him daddy. He was my father, nothing more. Distance as a means of self preservation, maybe for the both of us?
I wish I could say that I have risen above wanting to have his approval, no longer caring that I don’t have some…
View original post 291 more words