Dear Daddy: Part 4

Dear Daddy,

 

I know how you felt that day I couldn’t get out of bed. That day I was weak with grief and could only cry because my heart felt so heavy.

Your heart was aching for mine. You watched me from the clouds and cried with me. You hated seeing the sorrow cripple me, the heavy chains tying me down. Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted.

In the black you whispered, “look to me.” Your yoke is easy and your burden is light. Even though I was slipping further and further into the pit, you were still holding onto my hand, finger by finger. The bottom taunted and the grasp felt weak to me, but you were still there cooing my name and caressing my hair.

I have learned that you are not distant. In fact, you were not in the clouds peering down at me. You were sitting beside my bed, holding on to me. Covering my wounds with your stripes. Every tear you collected in a mason jar and every lost hair you kept counted.

In that moment, words were not necessary. All I needed was for you to be there and you were. You not only mourned with me, but you pulled me out of the darkness. You lit the wick of my heart with your lovely light.

Thank you. I love you too.

 

Love,

Stella

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